


The Long Weekend

by HRT



Category: Gravitation
Genre: Angst, Boys' Love, Dating, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, H - Freeform, Homosexuality, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-06
Updated: 2005-04-05
Packaged: 2017-10-03 14:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HRT/pseuds/HRT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tatsuha goes to Tokyo and experiences the most difficult, yet the most important weekend of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stand-alone story, unrelated to any of my other Tatsuha works on this site.

Morning light was illuminating the rice paper screen. Hana, the Uesugi family maid, set her tray down next to the blanket-piled futon. The tray held a traditional Japanese breakfast of green tea, miso broth, pickles, and rice porridge, which Uesugi-san always insisted should never vary in its contents. Then the maid slid the paper wall open with a soft scrape, letting the outdoor sunlight fall across the futon. This traditional action, too, was by order of the Uesugi patriarch. The old priest insisted that nothing was better than waking up to the quiet woodland outside. It helped center the mind for Buddhist contemplation and prayer.

Except this day happened to be in the middle of winter, and snow was falling. The maid stood up quickly and hurried off to the temple kitchen, which at least had a hot stove to warm the room.

A single arm was poking out from under the huge heap of blankets, tossed there by the careless, hidden sleeper. Six blankets were usually required to get through a winter night in the Uesugi temple, which had no modern central heating, and this sleeper had seven. The arm had escaped during a bad dream and a single flake of snow blew inside the room to land on the back of the sleeper's hand. Several other flakes followed as the wind shifted.

The hand twitched.

More snowflakes blew in, the wind dusting them across a Ryuichi Sakuma poster on the opposite wall. Semi-frozen ice pellets clattered on top of a row of CD cases, and bounced off a scatter of schoolbooks on the floor. Loose pages of homework began to blow about the room, and the wind, in an evil mood, stole a sheet of differential equations and sucked it outside, dropping it right into the slushy koi pond.

The arm withdrew under the blankets again, and the mound groaned. A second later the mound shifted, and a head came out, wondering at the tiny clattering noise of the ice pellets. Eyelids opened, adjusted to the sunlight, and then--

"AAAUUUUGH!"

The snowflakes were melting on the Ryuichi Sakuma poster, the paper already beginning to warp.

"FUCK! Not Again!"

The blankets were thrown across the room by the sleeper's feet, and Tatsuha Uesugi shot upwards. He was wearing thick wool socks, his jeans, a sweatshirt, his heaviest sweater over that, and he had even considered wearing a winter coat before he'd gone to bed last night.

The teenager leapt for the paper screen, remembering just in time to avoid stepping in his breakfast tray. He slid the offending screen shut and did a quick assessment of the damage. He snatched up a box of kleenex and dabbed frantically at his beautiful Ryuichi (Tokyo Festival Concert last year, black fishnet shirt and leather pants, kneeling on stage with eyes shut in ecstasy, and cradling the microphone stand between his legs like a lover--God! It was his favorite Ryuichi poster!), then he hurriedly shook snow off his CDs and retrieved his homework. The schoolbooks could get wet for all he cared. But where were those damned math equations?

The teenager sat down on his futon. He thought briefly about changing his clothes, but shuddered at the thought of doing it in his freezing bedroom. He stared at his breakfast and put a finger directly into the cup of green tea. It was already cold.

"FUCK!"

Tatsuha flopped backwards and snagged his cell phone off the cinder block bookcase next to his bed. A frantic punching got an answering machine in Tokyo.

"Aniki! Pick up. Pretty please with pocky on top." (The latter was just in case Shuichi hadn't gone to work yet. Eiri almost never answered his phone voluntarily.) The answering machine shut off.

"What?"

"It's snowing in my bedroom," Tatsuha wailed. "Father's gone crazy. He just got out of the hospital and he still won't heat the place. Can I stay with you this weekend? Seriously, Aniki, I might as well be sleeping on a park bench."

"No."

"Please? This is absolutely INSANE."

"Spring is only a few weeks away, then it'll be warm again."

"So what? This is now! I'm dying! Please, Aniki?"

"Hey, I had to put up with winters at the temple, too. I endured it."

"No fair! You got to live in New York for a couple of years, dammit! They actually turn the heat on there in winter. I've already lost a Ryuichi--"

Click.

Well, that seemed to be Eiri's answer. Mad punch punch punch on the cell phone.

"Oh hi, Mika! My favorite, most beautiful sister in the whole world. How are you doing, sweetie?" Maybe he should have used the flattery on Eiri. He'd try that next time as an experiment. It might make his brother faint, however.

"Is this about Dad? I thought he was out of the hospital. Has the pneumonia come back?"

"No, he's doing fine. It's about me. It's snowing in my bedroom."

"Uh-huh. And you want a weekend here? I guess I owe you, anyway. You were the one running the temple and staying with Dad in the hospital this time. If Dad'll let you come, Tohma and I can put you up."

"Thank you, my most beloved, dearest sister--"

"Don't flatter me, it's nauseating. Just show up. When are you arriving?"

"Not sure. I plan to leave after school today and be in Tokyo by dinner time."

"How are you getting here? Don't even consider riding your motorcycle. You'll get hypothermia from the wind chill."

"No, I have to get it repaired, anyway. Stupid clutch is broken."

"So what'll it be? The train? Do you need me to pick you up at the station?"

"Don't worry, I'll just arrive at the house around dinner time. See ya!"

The boy rang off, and scowled. He ate what he could of his cold breakfast, then took a deep breath and frantically changed his clothes. Then he stuffed his backpack full of supplies for the trip.

Now the hard part. Should he tell Dad? Or just slip off after leaving a note? Dad might say no, but that was no deterrent. But Dad might also say yes, and even offer a little yen for the trip.

After a moment, Tatsuha joined his father outdoors. Uesugi-san was standing quietly in the courtyard, robed in his monk's attire and contemplating the falling snowflakes. Barefoot, of course, in the snow. Tatsuha winced just thinking about it.

"Dad? I was thinking of visiting Mika and Eiri this weekend."

"Does this have something to do with the scream I heard from your bedroom this morning?"

"Huh? Oh, THAT." Tatsuha had forgotten about the scream. He scratched the back of his head in an embarrassed way. "Uh, I'd accidently stepped on one of those open claw loop thingies in one of my notebooks, and it hurt my foot."

"A monk should inure himself against physical pain and discomfort."

"Um, yeah. Like, I'm standing out here in the snow with you and all that stuff, right? So hey, how about that trip to Tokyo? I miss them." No harm in making the old man feel guilty, if it worked.

"And this is not an excuse to go see THAT BAND you like so much?"

"Nittle Grasper. You ought to remember the name, Dad, your own son-in-law plays with them. No, they're not giving any concerts this weekend."

The old man made a skeptical grunt.

"I promise they're not. You would have heard me talking on and on about the upcoming concert if they were. It's just a family visit, I swear."

"All right, but don't expect me to help you out financially for the trip. I do not approve of you leaving when the temple has so much business. And you must be back before your classes start on Monday."

Tatsuha bowed apologetically to the old man. "I know, but I want to see Mika, Eiri, and--"

He caught himself before he could say ‘Shuichi.' His father would have murdered him if he had. Tatsuha had been grounded for weeks after that incident in which Shu had flashed the old man. Unfortunately, after the old man had recovered from the shock, he remembered who had given the dragged-up Shuichi a motorcycle ride to Kyoto in the first place. As far as his father was concerned, if it hadn't been for Tatsuha's meddling, Eiri would be married to Ayaka and living a quiet, priestly life here at the temple. And Eiri might actually have done so, considering the downer he'd been on after breaking up with Shuichi that time.

Tatsuha bowed again, and went back inside the temple, shaking snow out of his black hair. Now, how was he going to get to Mika's? He was almost broke, a train ticket was out of the question, and his motorcycle was disabled.

Punch punch punch went the cell phone, as Tatsuha called every friend he had, asking if anyone (or even his friends' parents) happened to be driving to Tokyo this evening. He worked the phone patiently for an hour and kept at it in between classes. 

Nothing. Nobody seemed to be driving to Tokyo today.

So that was how Tatsuha Uesugi found himself after school, shivering under his backpack, fists in his coat pockets, hitchhiking to Tokyo along the highway.  He was freezing as he trudged along, looking hopefully into the windshields of passing cars. Wasn't this trip supposed to be about getting out of the cold or something? Nobody was stopping. At this rate he'd get frostbite before he could get a ride, dammit. If nobody picked him up in an hour, he'd just give up and go home.

Finally, a large truck hauling industrial pipe stopped. Tatsuha walked around to the cab, and looked up with his most innocent expression. "Going to Tokyo?" the teenager asked.

The driver looked middle-aged, and was smoking a cigarette in a tired way. He stared down at the boy for a long moment before answering. Tatsuha was disturbed by the silence.

"Yes," the driver finally answered. "Get in."

Tatsuha walked around and climbed inside. "I'm going to see my sister," he explained, feeling the need to appear as normal and unthreatening as possible. From that oddball look on the driver's face Tatsuha decided he needed to reassure the guy that his passenger wasn't criminal or insane. "I usually don't hitchhike, but my motorcycle's broken. I'm Tatsuha, by the way. What's your name?"

After another long silence, and a sidelong look that made the teenager uneasy, the driver took the cigarette out of his mouth. "Sanjiro," he replied shortly. He tossed the cigarette out the window, and when the rig got up to speed, reached over and put a hand on the boy's thigh.

Tatsuha shut his eyes. _Dammit_. He sort of suspected something like this might happen. But he really wanted to get to Tokyo. Opening his eyes again, he spread his legs and nudged the man's knee in acquiescence.

He tried not to startle too violently when the man's hand reached over and roughly unzipped his jeans.

* * *

Almost four hours later, Tatsuha was walking again, plucking at the strap of his backpack. Now he was on a Tokyo street, heading towards Mika's. The strap kept chafing his shoulder.

He wondered why he had done such a crazy thing. Tatsuha was not a virgin with either men or women, but he'd never indulged in anonymous, pickup sex before. He had always known, and indeed rather liked his partners. They had been friends or schoolmates, or ex-girlfriends of Eiri's. People he trusted. This, however, was different. And what he had done with that driver had been different, too. After traveling a few miles, Sanjiro had pulled over.

_Lying on his back, his leg wrapped around the driver's waist to allow him better access._

Hurriedly, Tatsuha squelched the memory. He had never gone uke for anyone before, and hadn't liked the feeling of helplessness. Always before, he had insisted on being seme. Sex somehow felt safer that way, with all the control in his own hands.

Sanjiro had let him off at the highway exit closest to his sister's house, but that still left Tatsuha with about a mile to walk. As it was still freezing, he had to stop in a hamburger shop to warm up again before attempting the next leg of his journey.

It had been scary, sliding his jeans and underwear completely off, and his shirt too, at the driver's insistence. Then lying down in the back of the cab for the guy, without a condom or any lubrication. It had hurt more than he--no, he didn't want to remember that, either.

He stepped into the bathroom of the restaurant for a moment. He really needed to clean up, but this wasn't a convenient place to do it. At least he could attend to his shoulder. He swung his backpack off and opened his coat. Unbuttoning the neck of his shirt, he was able to see the mark. The spot was swollen, but it looked like it would heal completely, without a scar. But the weight of the backpack had been irritating it.

_Sanjiro, smoking. Gazing lazily down at him. Then taking the cigarette out of his mouth and gently touching the burning tip to Tatsuha's shoulder like a kiss--_

Only Tatsuha's startled jerk and yell had saved him from an ugly branding. He'd had to use all his persuasion to keep that cigarette from returning.

Once, in chemistry class, Tatsuha had given himself a pretty good burn. He'd been melting a tube of glass in a Bunsen burner to make a right angle bend, and had accidently touched the molten spot with a finger. He'd hopped around the classroom waving his hand from the pain. The skin had turned white instantly, but the spot had been so small that it eventually healed over.

_This doesn't look as bad_, he thought. He cleaned the burn with soap, and walked out of the restaurant with his backpack looped over just one shoulder.

_That's the LAST time I ever go uke_, he thought with venom. _I can't believe I did something SO STUPID_.

The driver had actually paid him money, which Tatsuha had not expected. After letting his passenger off, Sanjiro had called him over to the window, and unexpectedly handed him some folded yen. Too surprised to look at the cash, Tatsuha had stuffed it in his back pocket, watching the rig drive away. Then the cold roused him to himself and he began to fast-walk to Mika's.

Suddenly a thought came to him in mid-step, and he stumbled. _Uesugi_, he said to himself, by taking that money, _you have officially_ _committed an act of prostitution_.

The boy shuddered.

He was glad he was walking right now. His mood was filthy. He couldn't show up at Mika's like this. Hopefully, the exercise would put him in a better temper before he arrived.

Before long, Tohma's house was in sight, and Tatsuha knocked on the door. He put on his public smile, the one he wore for temple services, and did his best to look like a little brother who had not been getting himself into a lot of trouble.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 2.


	2. Chapter 2

Mika greeted him with a hug and he started a little at the contact. It must have been because of Sanjiro.

"What's the matter with you? Why are you jumpy? And how come you're so cold? You feel like ice."

"A friend dropped me off at an intersection and I had to walk. He couldn't stop, since he had to drive on to Mito."

"One of your school friends?" Tohma commented as he took Tatsuha's coat. "He must come from a rich family, if he has a car already."

K was also here, drink in hand, apparently having been invited to dinner by the Seguchis. The American paused in mid-drink at the sight of the newcomer and narrowed his eyes.

Tatsuha felt uncomfortable. The American had an unusually piercing stare.

"Could you excuse me for a moment?" Tatsuha asked. "I have to dump my backpack and everything."

"Don't take too long," Mika said. "Kumiko has dinner waiting for us."

Tatsuha headed for the bathroom. All through his vigorous walk he was aware of how sore he was. He locked the bathroom door, took off his backpack, and pushed his jeans and underwear down. He was surprised to see blood on the underwear, and scowled.

_Idiot, that can happen, remember?_

He daubed at himself with some kleenex, and sighed. Why was he still bleeding? It must have been aggravated by the fast walking he had done. Fortunately, there was a spare pair of briefs in his backpack. When he thought he had the bleeding stopped, he changed into the new briefs. It was then that another involuntary memory came floating back.

_All right,_ Sanjiro had said, gesturing in front of Tatsuha's eyes with the cigarette tip. _You don't like my little game, do you? You owe me something else in its place._ And he'd pulled out of Tatsuha's ass, and finished himself off in the teenager's mouth.

And Tatsuha had let him. He'd been trembling by then, to Sanjiro's relish. After coming, the driver had promptly roused again, even harder. The second time Sanjiro used his mouth had taken forever.

_Sanjiro, standing, smoking, rocking with pleasure, reaching down from time to time to thumb the burn mark, causing faint whimpers in the choking throat. Tatsuha's eyes had been closed, and he felt the occasional fall of ash against his eyelids, sliding down his cheeks to land inside the hollows of his collarbones. _You're wearing my necklace, _Sanjiro had joked, stroking his finger along the ash._ Hey, kid, _he'd said, taking Tatsuha's face in his hands,_ let's just skip that Tokyo stop entirely. My cousin has a place in Hokkaido, nice and isolated in the mountains. Your family can spare you for a while.

All the way to Tokyo, Sanjiro had tried to persuade him to stay, and it had taken all of Tatsuha's pleading to make him stop. Sanjiro had almost driven on past the city. When he'd let Tatsuha out, the teenager had been ready to fall to the concrete and kiss it in relief.

As he stared down at the tissue, wet with fresh blood, he remembered the taste of Sanjiro. It had been disgusting, his own blood and--

_Stop,_ he told himself sharply. He tried to block the memory, but the taste wouldn't leave his mouth.

The next moment Tatsuha was on his knees, vomiting into the toilet.

When he next became aware of anything besides foggy-brained heaving, he was contemplating the curdled remains of his school lunch, mingled with Sanjiro's bodily fluids. Hurriedly, he flushed everything down the toilet before the sight made him vomit again.

Great, now his mouth tasted even worse. He rinsed his mouth out at the sink and ripped through his backpack for his toothbrush, using it to scrub every nook and cranny, every membrane as well as his teeth, using gobs of toothpaste. When his stunned tastebuds couldn't detect anything except mint flavoring, he quit.

Then he raised his head, and looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. God, he looked awful. His face was red and sweating, strands of damp black hair sticking all over his forehead, cheeks, and nose. His dark eyes were glassy. There was even toothpaste in his hair. His shirt sleeves were soggy from the faucet, his jeans wrapped around his ankles. And he was bleeding again, ruining the new pair of briefs. The vomiting must have started things up again down there.

Tatsuha snarled, and lunged into his backpack for a fresh change of clothes.

A knock came on the door, and Tatsuha startled so violently that he bumped a towel rack right off the wall. It clanked to the tile, the screws flying across the floor.

"Is everything all right in there?"

It was K's voice.

"I'm fine," Tatsuha managed to reply. "I just--ate something that disagreed with me at lunch."

Then he had to clamp his hands over his mouth to stop the demented laugh trying to emerge. Tatsuha hadn't meant to say THAT. A crazy little giggle squeaked out around his fingers, anyway. God! What must this American be thinking by now?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Go away, please."

"I'll tell Mika you're not feeling well, then."

"No! I'll be out in a little bit. And I'll be okay for dinner, so don't eat my portion." This last was said as jauntily as possible. When Tatsuha heard footsteps moving away, he studied the fallen towel rack. He knew he had a penchant for getting into trouble, but he'd really outdone himself today.

He found a metal nail file of Mika's in a drawer and was able to screw the towel rack back into the wall with it. Then he cleaned the toothpaste out of his hair and changed his clothes. Hopefully, this would be the last of the bleeding. Finished, he studied himself in the mirror again, praying he would look presentable. The face looked almost normal, but the expression was unusually grim.

_All right, little boy. So you had sex with that driver and you didn't like it because it was rougher and more frightening than you expected. Now you're upset. DEAL WITH IT, Tatsuha. You got out of it reasonably intact, and you're not a crybaby. Never were one. You didn't even try to tell him no, did you?_

Tatsuha retrieved his backpack.

_Aw shit, it's not like I could have jumped out of a moving truck._

But the worst of it was, Tatsuha had actually enjoyed it for a while, at least until that damn cigarette had shown up. Sanjiro's initial thrustings and gropings had sent Tatsuha right over the edge in the first couple of minutes. No wonder the driver had thought him persuadable.

He unlocked the door, and made his way down to dinner.

* * *

In deference to K's legs, they were eating Western-style tonight, on chairs. Tatsuha was seated opposite the American, who was showing Tohma a new gun. Seguchi, though he cared little for weaponry, was taking a polite interest in it.

Normally, Tatsuha wouldn't have minded the gun much, but . . . right . . . now . . . .

The chamber slid open with a murderous clack. Though the gun was empty, the noise made Tatsuha's heart stop for a second.

What if Sanjiro had had a gun? That would have been--

"Don't do that at the dinner table!" Mika scolded. "This is supposed to be a pleasant family meal. What do they say in Texas? Check your guns at the door, Winchester."

"Sorry," K replied. "I get a little carried away when I buy a new toy." He holstered the pistol, while Kumiko, the Seguchi family cook, carried in the meal. Tatsuha noticed that Kumiko, who was grey-haired and grandmotherly, was careful to hand K's dishes over the American's shoulder, as if trying to avoid K's arc of frontal range.

"What's this?" K asked, a phrase he used to preface practically every Japanese meal.

"Salmon roe, herring roe, shiitake mushrooms, cloud ear fungus, and seaweed salad," replied Tohma with relish. "One of my favorite meals."

K looked askance at his serving dishes. Everything was either unpleasantly wet, sticky, and glutinous, or it was black and appeared half-rotten.

"The white stuff's rice," Mika added with an evil grin.

Normally this was one of Tatsuha's favorite meals too, but today--  He picked at his rice, ignoring the other dishes.

"So how is your father?" Tohma asked.

"Standing barefoot in the snow again," Tatsuha complained. "That's how he caught the friggin' pneumonia in the first place. I've had to run the temple all this week while he's been in the hospital."

"Run the temple?" asked K, eyeing him.

"Yes, I'm a Buddhist monk, though I'm still in school. It wasn't easy doing both at the same time."

"A _Buddhist monk?_" K repeated.

"Yeah." Tatsuha was used to this reaction, but for some reason K's amazement irritated him more than usual. The American was still looking at him with incredulity.

"So how was business?" Mika asked.

Tatsuha sighed. "Busy as hell. Old people have been plopping dead all over Kyoto this week. I've been doing funerals solid." He glanced at the still-staring K. "The Japanese tend to marry Shinto, but bury Buddhist," he explained. "I wish it were the other way around. Sounds like those counseling courses that Dad wants me to take are going to be useful. I've been having to deal with all these sobbing families." Tatsuha had actually been better at consoling mourners when he was younger--or less aware of how terrible he was at it. Even he, the glib Tatsuha Uesugi, had found himself running out of things to say to people this week.

"So, you're a college student?" K asked.

"Uh, no. High school. I'm sixteen."

"_Sixteen?_" K blurted.

_What is it with this guy?_ Tatsuha wondered. _I'm beginning to feel insulted._ "I'm really glad I've gotten out of Kyoto this weekend." The thought of a decent bed in Mika's warm guest room sounded wonderful. Tatsuha had just finished a week of dozing on uncomfortable hospital couches and chairs, and he needed to do some catching up on his sleep.

"So what are your plans?" Tohma asked.

"Record shopping, of course! The stores here are better than those in Kyoto, and there's even the microscopic chance I'll find a Ryuichi Sakuma rarity I've missed, though I doubt it. I own everything Sakuma-san's ever created, because Ryuichi Sakuma--"

"--is a God," Mika and Tohma chorused wearily.

"Hey! I've got you well trained." Tatsuha grinned.

"It's worse than Na No Da," Mika groaned.

Tohma laughed. "You mentioned counseling courses. Has your father been discussing college with you?"

"Yeah. Since I'm going to be a Religious Studies major, Dad's already picked out all the classes I'll need. I'll also need some business courses," (here Tatsuha made a face), "for running the temple, and he wants me to take some classes in psychology as well for the counseling I mentioned earlier. He also wants me to audit some classes at Kyoto University to get me used to college level work before I go. Looks like I've got my life all sewn up for me, huh?"

Something inside his stomach did a sickening roll. Tatsuha stopped chewing. Dammit, he thought he'd gotten over his queasiness.

"Kyoto?" Tohma asked. "I thought you wanted to try for Tokyo University."

"He wants me closer to home. We're still fighting about that. Dad thinks I'll get into Kyoto with no problem, and I think he's trying to rig something up with Professor Morita, who's a friend of his."

"He's that famous Sanskrit scholar at the University there, isn't he?" Mika asked. "What is Dad trying to do?"

"Get me a summer internship with him. Professor Morita is compiling a new Sanskrit dictionary, and there's a lot of grunt work to be done for it. Apparently Dad doesn't think lying on my futon listening to rock and roll is a viable summer alternative," Tatsuha added sarcastically.

He fell silent, for his queasiness was growing worse. He tried to will his stomach to settle down. Why the hell was it returning now? Fortunately, Tohma was speaking to K about some sort of label deal, so no one noticed his whitening features. He was NOT going to run to the bathroom and make everyone wonder what was wrong with him. He was a Buddhist monk, dammit, trained in techniques of meditation, and he wasn't going to let a little queasiness get the better of him.

Unfortunately, he'd never been good at this mind-over-body stuff.

Sake. Maybe a little sake would kill the nausea, or at least numb his blasted stomach into submission. When no one was looking, he downed his cup and refilled it, waiting for another distraction in the conversation for a second dosing.

His throat began to tighten, forcing him to try the only sure-fire nausea killer he knew. It was not one of his Buddhist skills, but something he'd learned as a child.

He held his breath.

After a moment he realized it seemed to be working, though Mika was gradually growing darker, as if someone were lowering a dimmer switch. His sister began to break up into tiny shimmering blotches.

Tatsuha's next awareness was of opening his eyes to a tuft of rush grass in the tatami flooring. His right leg was still draped awkwardly over the chair seat.

"Oh my God!" Mika was yelling.

She sounded scared, quite unlike herself a moment before. What had happened?

Now there was Tohma, kneeling over him. What was all the fuss?

"Are you all right?"

At least his brother-in-law's voice sounded calm. Tatsuha's vision picked out a broken sake cup by his hand, tilted on its side. Sake was soaking into the flooring, he noted idly. Mika would be pissed about that.

"Tatsuha!" Tohma said more loudly. "Can you hear me?"

_I wonder if this is what they call delayed reaction._

The teenager sat up with a jerk. He had fainted and fallen right out of his chair. K was pulling the chair back to give him room, and there was Mika, climbing over her husband in her panic. She clutched at Tatsuha's face, feeling for fever.

"I'm all right," Tatsuha protested. Damn it, he'd blown it. How was he going to convince them that he was fine? "It's just a little--" A little what? Too much sake? No, Mika'd be furious if he claimed drunkenness. He'd fallen asleep? No, she'd think he'd worked himself into exhaustion. Caught something at the hospital? No, she'd promptly check him right into one. He had no good excuse for fainting, and he couldn't tell them why he'd been holding his breath.

"I'm fine--mumph!" He hadn't seen Kumiko with that thermometer.

"You stay quiet until I've got your temperature," Mika insisted. Now K was taking him under the shoulders, and Tohma was grabbing his legs. They lifted him over to the couch in the living room and laid him down on it.

"I'm all right," Tatsuha protested around the thermometer. He was embarrassed. They were hovering over him, though K seemed to have disappeared somewhere.

"Your color is terrible," Mika fretted. "You're sick. It must have been the hospital. They always have super-mutant germs there. I think you need to see a doctor."

"Hey!" Tatsuha snatched the digital thermometer out of his mouth and held it up. "I'm fine! See? No fever."

And indeed, Mika couldn't see anything wrong with the number. A few moments later K reappeared, and he stared hard at Tatsuha.

"I think I might have a touch of food poisoning," Tatsuha admitted. He had to have some excuse. "My stomach's a little unsettled."

"Then you need to go to the doctor," said Mika firmly.

"Wait a minute! Let's just wait and see if I get any worse. I've had food poisoning before and recovered in a few hours. Don't bother."

"I think I know something that will revive him," said Tohma. Seguchi left the room for a second, and came back carrying a CD case, which he waved hypnotically in front of Tatsuha's face. It took the teenager a long moment to make out the characters reading, ‘Phoenix Rising-Nittle Grasper-Demos. Not for unauthorized use. Property of NG Records.'

The adrenalin rush brought the teenager up so fast he almost knocked his brother-in-law flat. "THAT'S THE NEW ALBUM!" Tatsuha screeched, grabbing for the disk.

Tohma held the case out of reach. "Wait a second. Do you promise on your honor as a Uesugi and a monk, that you will not copy this disk or let anyone else listen to it? This is just a demo. The album isn't finished."

Tatsuha fell to his knees. "I swear! I swear! May the Buddha reincarnate me as a balding polka fan in my next life if I break my oath."

Seguchi hesitated.

Tatsuha turned sloe-eyed, and let his hair fall across his face in a sexy way. Hey, it worked when Eiri did it. Maybe he should suck on a chopstick in a provocative fashion, too.

But Tohma only laughed. Mika looked incredulous, while K raised an eyebrow. "You're really desperate, aren't you?" Seguchi asked.

Mika patted her husband's cheek. "He's just using you. You know it's Ryuichi he wants."

Tohma sighed, and glanced at his wife. "At least I come first with one Uesugi." He gazed at his brother-in-law with the expression of a man who thought he might get his lawn mowed out of this, but finally decided he didn't have the heart. "All right," he said, and handed the CD over.

Tatsuha kissed the sacred CD with reverence. "Thank you! Oh, thank you." He really did feel much better all of a sudden.

"I wouldn't mind a few comments about the CD if you can possibly muster some objectivity."

"Are you sure you ought to trust him with that?" K asked.

"Probably not," Tohma replied. "But if he does try to bootleg it, I'll just break his arm." Seguchi smiled hard at his brother-in-law.

Tatsuha returned the smile weakly, and ran to his bedroom to get his Walkman.

* * *

An hour or so later, Tatsuha's mad living room dance was interrupted by K. A few spins of Ryuichi's voice had so overcome him that he didn't even notice K until the American poked him.

"I see you've recovered," said K dryly as the sweaty Tatsuha removed his earphones.

"Who wouldn't? Sakuma-san is a God! This is terrific!" Something about Ryuichi's voice always cleansed his soul when it felt dirty. Sanjiro seemed to matter less after this. Although his own fear and stupidity still rankled.

"I stopped to say goodbye," K said. "Oh, by the way, do you happen to have some change? I was going to pick up some beer on the way home, but nobody wants to take 10,000 yen notes this late at night."

"I don't think I can change that. Maybe Tohma--"

"A 5,000 yen note?"

"I don't think so. Wait a minute." Tatsuha remembered the money in the back pocket of his jeans, which Sanjiro had given him. He hadn't even thought to look at it, yet. He dug out the driver's yen, and removed his wallet for his own money. "Maybe I do," Tatsuha said as he counted it together.

_3,000 yen? He gave me 3,000 yen? That's a little more than--_ "Yeah, I can change it."

Wait, what was this?

A strip of paper was tucked into the bills. Tatsuha studied it for a moment, uncomprehending. Then he made out some numbers.

_His phone number._ _That_ CREEP _gave me his _PHONE NUMBER?

Tatsuha was frozen for a second. Involuntarily, he felt the burn on his shoulder again, Sanjiro raking it hard with a fingernail. The ashes tapped over his face--humiliation, Tatsuha now realized. He'd been too paralyzed to understand the meaning of it at the time. And that stinking soiled _thing_ pumping in and out of his mouth.

Sanjiro had thought he'd found the perfect masochist. And wanted to meet him again, badly, for another session.

Tatsuha snatched the paper up and crumbled it, whipping it into a nearby trash basket in the same motion. "Uh, yeah," he said trying to keep his face calm. His heart was pounding, his hands shaking. "I have enough. Here. I think I hear Mika calling me. Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester." He tried not to hurry away too quickly.

After the boy left, K stared after him a moment. Then the American fished the piece of paper out of the trash, and read it.

Just before K left the house, he spoke to Tohma. "I think you need to keep an eye on that kid. A VERY close eye."

"What for?" asked Tohma.

"I'm not exactly sure--yet."

* * *

Continued in chapter 3.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Tatsuha arrived groggily for breakfast. Since his workaholic brother-in-law always left early for NG, breakfast was served at 6:30. The boy could barely unstick his eyelids over his steaming rice porridge. He noticed some sort of coffee-type smell in front of his face, and after a moment he opened his eyes and saw that Mika had poured him some espresso. "Oh, thanks." A few swallows of the brew, well-sugared, helped crank his brain above the horizon.

"How late were you up with that CD?" Mika asked with disapproval.

"Hey, I only listened to it 16 times."

"In other words, you didn't go to bed at all." Mika scowled. "I could kill you."

Tatsuha didn't want to tell her that every time Ryuichi's voice faded, Sanjiro would come back. The teenager hadn't been able to make himself go to sleep.

"Didn't go to bed? We must still have our touch. So what did you think of it?" Tohma asked. "Could you pour me one last cup, Mika-san? Ah, thank you."

"It's great. But the production is really glossy compared to some of your earlier stuff."

"That's the benefit of owning a recording studio. And Sakano is a good producer. What are you doing today, Mika-san?"

"Noriko and I are having lunch, then going shopping this afternoon."

"And I'm still planning on pillaging the records stores."

"You take care not to get lost," Tohma said to Tatsuha. "Tokyo's a big city. You know," he added to his wife, "K seemed concerned about Tatsuha for some reason. Would you have any idea why, Tatsuha?"

There was no reply.

"Tatsuha?"

The boy jumped when he felt the rap on his forehead. "Sorry, Aneki, I'm really not awake yet."

"You're as bad as Eiri!" Mika exclaimed. "What is it with my brothers' metabolisms? They're always zombies in the morning."

Tohma, who was in the act of shutting his briefcase, gave Tatsuha a sidelong look. "How much sleep did you get when your father was sick?" he asked.

"I don't know," the boy mumbled.

"I think you should let him go back to bed, Mika-san. I think he needs extra rest."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with me. It's just a little early."

"Except you didn't get any sleep," Mika retorted. "All right, try to get some more, then."

When Tatsuha rose from his barely comprehended breakfast, he reflected that at least his stomach had recovered. But then Kumiko was a good cook.

Since none of the record stores would open until ten o'clock, he went into the living room and lay down on the sofa. The CD had become his protective fuda by now, and he turned it on, listening to Ryuichi-sama through the headphones.

He was not aware of it when he fell asleep, cradling the player in his arms, or when Kumiko crept in and removed the headphones from his ears.

* * *

About an hour into his working day, Tohma finished his phone call with the Sony executive, and began to punch percentages and unit prices into his calculator. Ah, bargaining with Sony. It was unfortunate he had to use the conglomerate as NG's distributor, since his own label didn't have one. Sony always wanted too much for their services, though Seguchi was sure he'd bargained them down considerably.

His office door opened and Noriko entered, dragging Ryuichi after her by his jean jacket. This was not unusual, so Tohma only half paid attention as he converted his numbers into yen.

"All right," Noriko commanded, "TALK."

Ryuichi was clutching Kumagoro, gazing determinedly at the bunny's ears. "I had a cherry limeade with extra limes."

This was not unusual either, so Tohma concentrated on his calculator.

"They're really good," the singer continued, hugging Kumagoro. "I bought a big one. Quart size."

"Only YOU would have something like that for breakfast," Noriko said.

Ryuichi was still staring at Kumagoro's ears. "I set it down on the mixing board. And Kumagoro was a very bad bunny."

Tohma went still. He should have noticed the danger sign. Ryu was holding his stuffed rabbit in that very particular way.

"And Kumagoro," the singer sniffled, "NUDGED IT OVER."

"Did the cup have a lid?" Tohma asked quickly.

"Hell, no," Noriko replied. "Ryu never thinks of things like that."

"Does the board still work?"

"It lights up," Ryuichi said, gulping. "But it won't obey Sakano's commands."

For a moment, all Tohma could see was a dizzying string of zeros before his eyes. Calculating large sums in yen always did that to him.

"I'll pay for a new board," said Ryuichi in woeful tones.

"I think we have a spare in storage," Seguchi told him. Tohma had learned long ago to buy extra equipment in case of his bandmate. It saved him plenty of cash in production delays.

"And put down a new suit for Sakano," said the singer.

"Did you nail him, too?" asked Tohma, rubbing his temples.

"He's at home changing his clothes right now," Noriko sighed. "Go ahead. Tell him the rest of it."

The rest of it? There was more? Oh, God, was he going to need a stiffer drink than usual after work today?

"We lost the vocal tracks I'd laid down," Ryuichi continued. "The board won't play them."

"But we have a master of them, don't we?" Seguchi asked.

"No! They were just demos. I hadn't bothered backing them up. They were only on the board's memory."

Tohma thought hard. "I'll call a data recovery service. I think they may be able to pull some of the tracks out of the memory. Wait a second. I had Sakano layer your vocals over the rest of our demo tracks yesterday and burned a CD of it. I was going to review it over the weekend. Unfortunately, CD quality isn't studio quality, so it'll lose some data if we copy back from it."

"You'll just have to do your vocals over again, Ryu," said Noriko.

"But you do have a copy?" the singer said, looking relieved. "I don't remember all the words I sang."

"Didn't you make up a lyric sheet?" Noriko asked.

"No. I can't read my own handwriting, so I didn't bother."

Ryuichi's dysgraphia was notorious.

"Okay," said Noriko. "So it's not too bad. I'll be able to have lunch with Mika without freaking out."

"Where exactly is that CD?" the singer asked.

"At home, in Tatsuha's Walkman," said Tohma thoughtfully.

* * *

Continued in chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

The bushes behind the Seguchi house twitched.

_I hate doing this_, Ryuichi thought. Breaking into Tohma's house was always difficult.

He studied the back windows, unsure if Mika were home or not.  In the kitchen he could see the cook, Kumiko. But the important thing was Mika. Ryuichi couldn't stand her. He was also scared of her.

The singer could have asked Tohma to get the CD, but Tohma was needed at work. He was (ahem) overseeing the replacement of the mixing board. And Noriko could have fetched it during her lunch with Mika, but she was off in Studio One laying down more keyboard tracks, and Ryuichi wanted that CD _now_. He felt guilty about destroying the mixing board and wanted to start on the new vocals as soon as possible. He could finish them this morning if he could retrieve that CD for the lyrics.

The cook was stepping away from the windows. Now was his chance. Ryuichi eased over and slid one of the windows up. Tohma always left this particular window unlocked in case of fire. In front of him was a row of houseplants. The singer was glad he was slight of frame, for he hated destroying helpless plants. "Gomen, gomen," he whispered to them as he shoved tender leaves aside. Then he was through. A little potting soil on the hems of his pants, but not bad. Now for the next stage.

He was standing in the dining room, listening. No loud-voiced Mika. Good. But as important as his mission was, he couldn't help making a detour. To the kitchen, of course.  When he opened the door, he nearly scared the hell out of Kumiko. The old lady's mouth opened wide to scream, but she stopped when she saw the finger across his lips, and recognized him. Then she exhaled hard and looked exasperated.

Ryuichi turned chibi on her, smiling.

"Sakuma-san," she asked. "What are you doing?"

But the singer waved at her frantically. She shook her head, for she knew about his aversion to Mika. Then she opened a jar, removed a piece of rice candy from it and placed it directly into the singer's waiting mouth.

Chewing, Ryuichi smiled at her again. The cook shook her head at him, bemused, as he left the kitchen.

Now for that CD. Where was it? He got down on hands and knees, the better to keep out of Mika's sight if she walked in, and began to prowl the house. First, he started with the living room, searching tabletops. Then he passed the sofa and was badly startled. A dreaded Uesugi!

Wait, did he know this Uesugi? It wasn't the one he was familiar with. Yet he recognized the face. Yes, the family resemblance was there.  Ryuichi paused and studied the sleeper more closely. A memory came to him.

Three years ago, at Mika's wedding. The huge and noisy reception in the lobby downstairs. Tohma had rented the entire building for the party. Stepping off the low stage to take a break from his singing as everyone danced, and going over to one of the refreshment tables as a pair of bridesmaids talked.

_You didn't leave him alone in Mika's room, did you?_ said one of the girls.

_He'll do okay. He was awake and complaining earlier._

_Too bad he has to miss the reception. I'd hate it if I were too sick to attend the greatest social event of the decade. Tohma Seguchi's wedding!_

_He's just a little kid. I'm sure weddings bore him anyway. Oh, look! It's Sakuma-san!_

A few polite words to them, then sneaking away. Very hard to do, if you were Ryuichi Sakuma. With a slice of cake balanced on a plate with a fork. And the elevator, to Mika's room. There he found the boy.

"I've brought you a slice of the cake."

Eyes opening, uncomprehending. Seeing nothing.

A hand on the burning forehead. "Whoa! You're REALLY sick. I'd better get your family fast."

And the boy carried off in a stretcher by the ambulance men, and Tohma saying, _No, Mika-san, I think he'll be okay. We brought the fever down when we ran the cold water over him in the bathtub and threw the ice in. Eiri's going to the hospital with him. He can give us progress reports, then we can go visit him later tonight. Don't worry._

Ryuichi opened his eyes. He was kneeling in Tohma's house, and his hand was on Tatsuha's forehead, trying to detect the fever that had disappeared three years ago.

_He'll wake up! Ryuichi, you idiot!_

Carefully, he removed his fingertips. Tatsuha didn't stir. Relieved, he prepared to crawl on. Wait, Tohma said it was in Tatsuha's Walkman. _This_ Walkman? The one tucked under the teenager's arm?

Oh, brother.  How was he going to remove it without waking Tatsuha?

Ryuichi studied the problem. Teenager lying on his back, Walkman between his right elbow and body, on the side opposite the singer. Carefully, Ryuichi took the player between two fingers. Tatsuha was in long sleeves, so it might be possible to slide it out without waking the boy. He just needed a better grip--

Then Tatsuha turned over, right on the Walkman, and on top of Ryuichi's hand.  The singer stared in disbelief. Great, now his arm was trapped. How the hell had he gotten into this?

The teenager was still asleep.  Ryuichi thought for a while. He could wait until Tatsuha just happened to turn over again, but that might be an hour from now. His fingers would be numb by then, and his hand was already sore. What on earth was he going to do?

What he did was give a startled cry when Kumiko leaned over and jerked his hand out, Walkman and all.

"Uesugis sleep like stones," Kumiko said in a normal tone of voice. "Were you looking for this, Sakuma-san?" She opened the CD player and removed the disk.

Ryuichi glanced downwards. Tatsuha was still sleeping, undisturbed. The teenager looked scary. Uesugi-pretty, but scary. Maybe it was his dark coloring, different from his siblings, but he looked . . . sultry? Was that the right word?

"Oh, yes, thank you. I didn't want to wake him because--" He hesitated, not wanting to say he was afraid of the Uesugi temper.

Kumiko was eyeing him. "He's a nice boy," the cook said. Her tone had something odd in it, as if she were chiding him. "Much more so than his brother."

Nice? ‘Uesugi' and ‘nice' had always been mutually exclusive categories. But Kumiko had said it in such a serious way. Nice?

"He wore himself out looking after his sick father this week, and was running his family's temple, too.  He was playing this CD all night."

A fan? Now that he studied Tatsuha again, the teenager no longer looked quite so threatening. Tatsuha was burrowed into the couch as deeply as he could get, his face resting sideways on the pillow. And the way he'd been hugging that Walkman--yes, there was something almost Kumagoro-fluffy about it.

"So he's difficult to wake?" the singer asked.

"Well." Kumiko's face was sly. "I think if you _kissed_ him, he'd wake up."

Ryuichi only blinked at her in polite bewilderment.

* * *

Tatsuha was dreaming of Ryuichi. Of blue eyes, like concentrated sky. Blazing azure suns too bright to look at. Of Ryuichi's face coming closer, of warm breath. Of lips. Soft lips pressing against Tatsuha's. So damp, so wet, so soggy.

"Blaaaaugh!"

He woke, thrashing. He was lying on the couch where he'd fallen asleep after breakfast. And someone HAD been kissing him. A little girl was sitting on his chest, leaning over his face with a large amount of spit on her mouth. She giggled.

Tatsuha stared. Who the hell was this? Had Mika given birth to a daughter and never bothered to tell him?

The girl only giggled some more, pleased with herself. "I think you're cute," she said, blushing.

"I think I'm cute, too," Tatsuha replied, wiping his mouth. What a horrible thing to have happen to you just when you were dreaming about soft, beautiful, Ryuichi lips. _I'm never having kids, _Tatsuha thought.

A mocking laugh came from the hallway. "Modest as ever, Tatsuha-kun. Aren't monks supposed to learn humility from somewhere?"

Tatsuha sat up a little. Noriko Ukai stood there. "This is Saki, isn't it?" said the boy.

"I suppose I have to claim her. How'd you like to babysit her for the rest of the afternoon while your sister and I go shopping?"

"AAAUUUGH!"

Noriko nodded at her daughter. "I outscored you, Saki. He screamed louder for me." The musician laughed at the horrified look on the monk's face. "Do you think I can't afford to hire someone more responsible than you to look after my daughter? And stop gaping at her like she's the shark from ‘Jaws.'"

"Sorry," Tatsuha apologized. "It was just the excessive drool factor. Why are you here so early, anyway?"

"Early? It's one o'clock in the afternoon," Noriko said, taking Saki's hand.

Frantically, Tatsuha looked around for a clock. It was indeed early afternoon. But it had been 7 a.m. when he'd lain down on the couch. Damn! Six hours gone. He hadn't intended to sleep the day away.

"I'll be back around five." Mika called. "Don't forget your key, because Kumiko has to buy groceries this afternoon.  I expect you to be here for dinner. I don't want to have to launch a massive manhunt for you like we've done before."

Tatsuha muttered something about his innocence as he watched them leave. He started to rise from the couch, then noticed something odd.  His Ryuichi-Sense was tingling. It always activated on those rare occasions when he got close to his God, such as Nittle Grasper concerts. That reminded him of the new album and he looked around for his CD player. It was empty.

"Kumiko?" he asked. "Do you know if Tohma took that demo disk he lent me?"

"Oh, no. That was Sakuma-san."

"Wh–what?"

"He came by the house to get it."

"Ryuichi? Here? He took it--_from my player?_ While I was lying asleep on the couch with it?"

"Why, yes. He must have been crouching beside you ten minutes, very quiet, trying not to wake you."

"And he's not here anymore?" asked Tatsuha, his voice cracking.

"No, he's not. He left hours ago."

Slowly Tatsuha toppled forward, landing face down on the tatami flooring with a noisy _splat_. "Life SUCKS!" the prone body moaned.

He couldn't believe it. He'd just missed Sakuma-san. Ryuichi had been _right next to him_, and he'd been oblivious.

How could this monstrous thing have happened to him?

* * *

A little later Tatsuha was walking quickly along a Tokyo street, chewing his lunch. He had begged Kumiko for something he could eat while he went shopping, so the cook had given him ika-meshi, a rice-stuffed squid that had been cooked in soup stock.

As he bit off another piece of squid, he reflected about his own sexuality. He really wasn't certain how to classify it, whether ‘bisexual' actually fit or not. He liked women, liked the way they looked, and he liked having sex with them. But he didn't fall in love with them. As for men--now, wait a minute. Now that he thought about it, he felt the same way about them, too. He liked having sex with men, but he didn't fall in love with them, either.

Except for Ryuichi. Whom, of course, he hadn't had sex with, but whom he loved maniacally.

_None of this makes any damn sense._

He masticated a little more squid, and all of a sudden its texture reminded him of something else. Graphically reminded him. A stiff, elongated reminder.

A second later the squid hit the side of a building with a force that would have done credit to a major league baseball pitcher, disintegrating completely under the impact. Passers-by flinched aside, and gave Tatsuha bewildered looks, wondering why he had flung a squid at them.

Tatsuha reddened, and stepped up his already fast pace. He wondered if Sanjiro had finally done what no woman had ever managed and turned him into a complete heterosexual.

No, there was still Ryuichi, whom he hadn't slept with and couldn't even begin to imagine sleeping with, because he'd blown the only chance he'd ever had by not waking up. He'd been trying to get Ryuichi's phone number for years. _And the only number I've been able to get is that goddamn driver's._

Eiri and Mika had laughed at him many times for his obsession with Ryuichi. _Damn them, too. They actually get to fuck their little rock stars. I have to stare at mine on a wall._

Slowly, he began to realize how angry he was with his father, Eiri, and Mika. He was angry with his father for being sick yet again, and expecting his son to handle all the temple duties as well as regular schoolwork, yet spend the rest of his time with his sick father at the hospital.

He was furious with Eiri for being such a bastard, again. Eiri had been a bastard about everything for the last six years. Tatsuha had been enduring and excusing it for a very long time because of what had happened to his brother in New York. But today Tatsuha was in no mood to pity his brother. _I don't believe that just because something awful happened to you it gives you an excuse to be a jerk for the rest of your life._

He was even furious with Mika, for she had left Dad and his pneumonia to Tatsuha's care this time, not even bothering to come to Kyoto. Dad had called her home once too often, probably.

_Maybe that's why I said ‘yes' to Sanjiro. Because I secretly wanted them to find out what I'd done. To really, really piss them off._

Then the monk in him spoke up. _And just because something awful happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be a jerk, either._

This sobered him for a moment. All right, this last week had almost wrecked him. But he could get over it.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 5.


	5. Chapter 5

As Tatsuha began to flip through CD bins, he felt his equilibrium returning. Record shopping always made him cheerful. But maybe it was finally getting some sleep, too. Sanjiro was now a day in the past and the driver was beginning to fade a little.

He was just starting with the A's when a voice caught his attention. The proprietor was calling out to someone entering the store. "Hey, Yoshi! I've got that Ryuichi Sakuma CD you ordered."

"Thanks, Heiji. But I'd like to look around first before I pick it up."

_How come he's not going wild?_ Tatsuha thought to himself. _Well, at least he's a Sakuma fan._

Except this Sakuma fan was frankly weird-looking. Yoshi was wearing the ugliest hat Tatsuha had ever seen. It was a blue cap that looked like some inept female relative's first attempt at knitting. Yoshi appeared to have it on upside down, too, for all the cut-off threads were sticking out all over, like some bizarre afro. A white hachimaki headband was peaking out from under the cap, exactly the sort students wore while studying for exams, and Tatsuha even thought he could make out the bottom of the kanji character for ‘persevere' on it, a common slogan. A bulky down jacket and a pair of wire octagonal sunglasses completed the outfit. Tatsuha had the urge to go over, kick this Yoshi guy in the ankle, and say, _Hey you, Ryuichi fan, dress better than that! Don't you know you're insulting Sakuma-san?_

But that wouldn't be right. He was a Buddhist monk, and just as all worshipers were welcome to the Buddha, all fans were welcome to Sakuma-sama. He supposed this Yoshi guy was a student who had been cramming long hours for a test, become burned out, and had fled to a record store to revive himself. Tatsuha had often done the same thing, too.

The teenager turned his attention to the B's, just in case there was a new Bad Luck limited edition of something. His hand collided with another's right over a Bad Luck interview pack. "Oh, sorry," the other man said.

It was that Yoshi guy. He was a Bad Luck fan? Cool. But if he had such good taste, why did he have to dress like a moron?

"That's okay," Tatsuha replied. "You like them, huh?"

Yoshi nodded, inspecting the interview CD. "I first became interested in them when I heard they were on NG. Seguchi-san has excellent taste in bands."

Tatsuha had to refrain from saying that Seguchi had hated Bad Luck at first. He was tempted to confess that both Tohma and Shuichi were his in-laws, and that he'd actually been inside NG. (Though admittedly only after agreeing to wash Tohma's car, first.)

"Speaking of NG bands, did you ever hear ASK's CD?"

"I did and it was quite good," Yoshi replied. "But they broke up for some reason I've never discovered, which is strange because I try to keep up with music news."

Idly, Tatsuha wondered why Yoshi had no visible hair. Cancer treatments? The guy looked sort of frail in his bulky coat. "My brother absolutely hates that band, and I have no idea why. I bought that ASK disk, too, but when I went over to my brother's with it, he let out this roar, snatched the case out of my hand and threw it off the balcony of his apartment building. He just lobbed it straight up into the air and it came spinning down and shattered the windshield of his Mercedes. He'd forgotten it was parked below."

"Really?" said Yoshi, grinning.

"Yeah," Tatsuha laughed. "Served him right for destroying my CD. My brother just stood there gazing down at his car with this incredulous look on his face. My name's Tatsuha, by the way. You're Yoshi? I heard the proprietor say your name."

The other man nodded.

"And you're a Sakuma fan?"

"Yeah, I sort of like his stuff."

"Sort of? You mean it's possible to feel lukewarm about him?"

"Well, I don't like everything he does. Are you a fan of his?"

In answer, Tatsuha walked over to the S's and found a CD single of Ryuichi's that he particularly adored, because the singer's bare chest took up most of the cover. He held the picture up to show it to Yoshi, then gave the CD the most slow, hungry lick he could manage.

"Hey!" the proprietor yelled. "What do you think you're doing? Stop slobbering on the merchandise!" Yoshi too, gave Tatsuha a fish-eyed look.

Tatsuha pressed the CD to his cheek and purred. "Beautiful Ryuichi-sama. I'd _marry_ him if I could."

"Put that down, you nutcase!" Heiji yelled.

Tatsuha laughed and replaced the CD. "Hell yes, I'm a fan," he said as he returned. "If I could get him into bed, I'd be in heaven! He wouldn't be able to walk for a week afterward."

Even behind his sunglasses, Yoshi's eyes could be seen rolling skywards. "You know he owns this stuffed rabbit? Don't you think that's strange?"

"Strange? Of course not. It just means he's very affectionate. More so than your average male, if you think about it. I bet he's really sweet in bed."

Tatsuha had to admit he was impressed by Yoshi's composure. The guy still hadn't run for his life yet. Usually when the teenager spoke to strangers like this about his idol, he scared the hell out of them.

"I'm serious, man, I _really love_ him."

Yoshi smiled a little. "Tatsuha," he said, "you're very weird."

"No, just in love. I cried for a week when Nittle Grasper broke up and he went to America."

"Did you know that Tohma Seguchi tried to talk him into becoming the new lead singer for ASK?"

"What? You're kidding! Where'd you hear that?"

"Gossip. I go to a lot of clubs and meet music industry types now and then. Seguchi didn't want to throw away a perfectly good band when Taki Aizawa disappeared, I understand."

"No way! What else did you hear?"

For the next hour, they talked as they flipped through CD cases. Tatsuha was quite impressed by Yoshi, who really did seem to know a lot about the music business. Since Tatsuha was a fanatic himself, he was able to cross-check much of what Yoshi said, and knew it to be true. Even more impressive to Tatsuha was Yoshi's modesty. Most of the real music nuts Tatsuha had met were touchy and arrogant. When they'd pawed their way through enough rows, Yoshi went up to the counter to claim his Sakuma CD. Curious, Tatsuha studied the CD over Yoshi's shoulder to see which one it was. He didn't recognize it.

What? How could this be?

"Ryuichi Sakuma--Live in Berlin," Yoshi read aloud, "Spindisk Records, Germany."

"Hey, how come I've never heard of this?" Tatsuha blurted. "Do you have another copy?" he asked the proprietor. Though the disk looked expensive, he thought he could afford it.

"Let me check," Heiji said.

"I hadn't heard of it before, either," Yoshi said. "I didn't recognize it when I found it in the catalogue Heiji had. That's why I ordered a copy." Yoshi snorted as he studied the disk. "Now I know why. It's a bootleg live recording."

"No, sorry kid," Heiji said to Tatsuha. "My supplier's completely out, and can't get any more."

"Spindisk Records," Yoshi mused, tapping the CD against his cheek. "What did I hear about them? Oh, yes, they were busted a couple of weeks ago and the stock in their warehouse confiscated and destroyed. I bet this is one of the few copies that escaped." He turned the CD over to study the song list. Tatsuha wedged up against him and did the same. He didn't even recognize most of the song titles.

"Are you sure?" the teenager begged the proprietor. "You're completely out? No other copies?"

"Sorry."

Tatsuha's mouth opened as he stared at the disk, pathetic as a baby bird's.

Yoshi glanced at him. Then he looked at the CD, and back at Tatsuha. "Did you want this CD?" he asked the teenager.

Tatsuha sputtered. Did he want this CD? What a stupid question. He'd _kill_ for this CD. Except he couldn't kill Yoshi. Yoshi was nice. "Um, ah, it's yours and everything, you know? I mean--"

"Did you want to buy it?"

"Um, if there were another copy I would, but he says--"

Yoshi handed the disk over, putting it in Tatsuha's palm.

"What! _You mean you don't want it?_"

"I'd like a copy," Yoshi said. "But I went to one of Sakuma's last concerts as a solo artist, and I've heard most of these songs. Tell you what, Tatsuha. You buy the disk, then burn me a copy of it." He laughed. "Bootleg the bootleggers."

Tatsuha couldn't believe it. Yoshi had just _given up_ a Sakuma CD? This was something so incredible, so saintly, that it was worthy of the Buddha. The next instant he had one arm around Yoshi's waist, the other cradling Yoshi's neck, and he was giving his new friend the most hungry, tongue-thrusting, and sexiest kiss he'd ever delivered.

Yoshi flailed in surprise as his feet were lifted right off the ground and he latched frantically onto his cap to keep it from falling off.

"Hey, Nutcase," said Heiji, rapping Tatsuha sharply on the head with a label maker, "am I going to have to call a cop? Quit that."

Tatsuha let go, threw himself at Yoshi's feet and began to pound his forehead against the floor. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Ten thousand thanks!" Then he wrapped himself around Yoshi's knees.

For a long moment the dazed Yoshi stared at him. He looked as though he were about to flee the room. Heiji leaned over the counter to inspect the teenager. "Tatsuha," said Yoshi finally, "You are the CRAZIEST guy." He laughed, and exchanged a look and a shake of the head with Heiji.

In delirium, Tatsuha paid for his precious CD. "Oh, man, I can't believe you did this. You're so cool. Um, hope I didn't embarrass you too much, there."

"Oh, I've embarrassed myself in public many a time. You didn't bother me."

"I'm glad you aren't mad. You know what? There's a hamburger place next door that's pretty good. Let's have lunch."

"Sure. Just let me finish with my own CDs first."

After Yoshi paid, they left the shop and stood in line for hamburgers. After Yoshi ordered, Tatsuha swept his friend's wallet aside with an imperious hand, digging out his own. "Let me buy," the teenager insisted. "I really owe you."

"But I can pay."

"Never mind," Tatsuha insisted grandly, blocking Yoshi with his arm. Then he pulled out his yen and nearly had a heart attack. _Oops._ He'd spent nearly all his own money on that CD. He had just enough to cover Yoshi's tab, and buy a soda for himself.

"Didn't you want a hamburger?"

"I ate lunch right before I went shopping," Tatsuha lied. "Hey, did you need ketchup?" he asked, trying to distract the other man. "There's a table over here. I'll get us some napkins."

They sat by the window, and Tatsuha sipped his drink. God, now that he thought about it, he was starving. He began to wish he hadn't dealt so summarily with that squid. It had been horribly evocative, but it had been food.

Yoshi was removing the wrapper from a plastic knife. He studied Tatsuha a moment, then began to saw his burger in half. He slid over the other half on a napkin and added some french fries as well.

"That's yours," Tatsuha insisted.

"Go ahead," Yoshi replied. "There's plenty here, since I ordered a Jumbo Burger and a large bag of fries." He glanced at Tatsuha very briefly, his eyes shadowed by his lenses, and the teenager knew he hadn't fooled Yoshi at all.

_God, he really is a saint,_ thought Tatsuha. "Are you a student?"

"I'm a ronin," Yoshi said with reluctance, not meeting Tatsuha's eyes.

That meant he'd failed his college entrance exams and was studying hard in an attempt to try to pass them again. _His parents must be mad as hell at him. I bet he's going to a cram school._

"What about you?" Yoshi asked.

So Tatsuha told him about the whole monk business. After a while, he began to worry that he was talking too much, but Yoshi was quite interested. He was curious to hear about exorcisms and whether Tatsuha believed in ghosts. It amused him to learn that Uesugi-san went barefoot in the snow. Yoshi was even more delighted when Tatsuha told him about the wild monkeys who often stole the food offerings left at the temple.

"Sometimes I put food out for them in winter. I've actually woken up in my bedroom and found myself face to face with a wild monkey calmly eating my rice porridge and drinking my tea. The tea makes them very wired, though, and you have to shoo them out of the place before they damage something. My dad keeps telling me not to encourage them. I've often wondered if I could teach them to use chopsticks."

Yoshi grinned. "Maybe you could."

"I guess I'm making my family life sound pretty strange, aren't I?"

"I don't think a normal family could have produced you," Yoshi said.

"Thanks," the teenager replied, unsure whether this was a compliment. Even worse, he still hadn't told Yoshi the craziest parts yet. What would Yoshi think if he knew Tatsuha's brother had come out on national TV, or that some of Tatsuha's friends had blown up the old NG building from outer space? Although Yoshi himself couldn't claim to be exactly normal, considering the way he was dressed. But now that Tatsuha looked at him--

It was strange, but Yoshi was beginning to look better. His cap wasn't so silly anymore, as if the wearer's personality held some mysterious power to transform it into something cooler. And his sunglasses weren't too bad, either. Sort of rockish, in fact. _He has good bones,_ Tatsuha thought. _If he'd dress better, he'd be good-looking. Does he have any hair at all? It would be a shame if he were bald._ "Say, could I have your mailing address? I'll need it to give you that CD copy."

"Do you need to leave now? I wouldn't mind spending more time with you."

Unused to blushing, Tatsuha was surprised when he felt heat in his cheeks and throat. "No, I just wanted to make sure you won't forget it." _Why am I blushing? Yeah, I did decide he's somewhat good-looking, but why am I reacting like this? I guess I'm just flattered that he likes me, even though I should have freaked him out by now. _He wondered again about Yoshi's health, and felt a protective warmth for the other man. Yoshi seemed so frail.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Tatsuha asked suddenly.

"Not at the moment."

Tatsuha found himself wondering if Yoshi had ever had a lover at all. Maybe not.

"I think they're out of tables," Yoshi said. "Someone seems to be waiting for ours. Shall we go?"

"All right." They stood up and threw away their garbage, and stepped outside.

"Where do you want to go?" Tatsuha asked.

"No place, actually. I just feel like talking. I know it's cold out here."

"Then we'll just walk fast." They set a furious pace, not paying attention to where they were headed. On the next block was a park, and they stopped to admire a fountain. It was so cold that little cakes of ice were floating in the water. "I know this place," Tatsuha said. "Shuichi fell in here, once."

"Shuichi?"

Tatsuha could have kicked himself. "Friend of mine," he lied quickly. "He fell in by accident, but it turned out okay."

"The city should have shut off the water," Yoshi commented. "The pipes might burst. But at least the birds have something to drink. By the way, how long have you been a Sakuma fan?"

"God! Years. It's a spiritual thing by now. I even have Ryuichi-Sense."

"Ryuichi-Sense?"

"Yeah. It activates in his presence, like when I go to his concerts or something."

"What does it feel like?"

"It's hard to describe. It's a powerful feeling, just a huge rush of joy. One soul touching another. I'm not very Buddhist in my religion, I'm afraid. But I'm very Buddhist about Sakuma-san. Interconnectedness of all things, and so forth."

Yoshi wore a slight smile, skeptical, but amused.

"Do you feel it now?"

Tatsuha thought hard. "Maybe it's the new CD, but I think I do. This is his city, anyway, and I know he's around here somewhere."

"Tatsuha, if you don't mind my asking, are you interested in men?"

"Yeah, and girls too. What about you?"

"Only girls," Yoshi said. "But I don't hold any prejudices against people for the gender they prefer. But don't you think it's a little--unnatural to have such strong feelings for a man you've never met?"

"Hey, I didn't choose this. I just love him."

"But wouldn't you be happier," Yoshi said in a gentler tone, "with someone you could actually see and touch, instead of this distant musical idol?"

Tatsuha felt his eyes grow hot. "It isn't my choice," he repeated vehemently. "I just feel this way. I'll _never_ fall out of love with him."

Yoshi was silent for a while, studying the water. Tatsuha swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I'm just suggesting that there are other people out there. Judging from the way you kiss," Yoshi added, "I don't think you'd have any trouble with women." He grinned, and gave Tatsuha a sidelong look. "I don't think anyone's ever kissed me like that before. No girl ever has, anyway."

In that moment, there was something so pleasant in Yoshi's smile that Tatsuha found himself saying, "Oh? Do you want another one?" He stepped closer to Yoshi.

"Uh, Tatsuha--" Yoshi began backing away.

_Yes,_ thought the teenager, eyeing the other man. _Yes, I can do it. The Uesugi hormones can shag anything. Yes, I think I want to._

"Tatsuha, I'm sorry, but I'm not interested. Uh, Tatsuha?"

_One kiss, just one, before he has time to get mad. I like you, Yoshi. So I'm going to give you just one little kiss before you slug me._

"Now, wait a minute!" Yoshi protested, still backing away.

"Why not? Will it kill you?" Tatsuha retorted.

For a second Yoshi paused, pondering this, but he was too slow. Tatsuha lunged. Their lips met for the briefest second, before Yoshi's reflexes took him flying blindly backwards, right into the icy water of the fountain.

"OH CRAP!" Tatsuha howled. "Yoshi!" He leaned over and grabbed the sputtering, gasping man by the coat. With a tremendous heave, he pulled Yoshi out. "I'm sorry! Oh, my God, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot! Quick, we need to get you inside."

Yoshi had turned remarkably blue, and he was shivering so hard he couldn't speak.

"Look, I'll take you home and get you dried off and warmed up. Taxi!" he yelled. There was one waiting at a stand nearby. He didn't have any money to pay the driver, but he could borrow some from Kumiko.

Pushing Yoshi inside, he fired off the address as he climbed in. Then he unzipped Yoshi's coat and hurriedly put his own around the shivering shoulders. "I'm sorry, it's all my fault. But it's only a few blocks, and I'll get you into a steaming shower."

Yoshi was unable to reply. Tatsuha held him close, trying to warm the other as much as possible with his body. _I'm such a friggin' idiot. How could I have done this to him?_

They drew up to the Seguchi house, and Tatsuha jumped from the taxi and ran inside. "Kumiko! Where are you? It's an emergency!" But the house was silent. "Crap! Did she leave to get groceries?" Desperately, he ran back out, and was surprised to see the shivering Yoshi proffering a credit card to the driver.

"Did you want a receipt?" the driver asked as a trembling hand signed the slip.

"Fuck no," said Yoshi with vehemence, hurrying for Tohma's front door. Tatsuha paused to rescue the credit card from the driver, and chased after Yoshi.

But Yoshi was even faster. Tatsuha skidded along a damp trail of footprints, looking around and yelling a rain of "Sorrys!" Then he realized the shower was already running in Tohma's bathroom. How had Yoshi found it so fast? Tatsuha turned the doorknob, but found it locked. "Are you all right?" he shouted.

He heard a moan, then the words, "The hot water's on. God, this feels good."

"I'll make you some tea and put your clothes in the dryer when you get out!" Tatsuha called. He scrambled to get a bathrobe and put some water on the stove. About fifteen minutes later, he was standing worriedly by the door with the tea on a tray and the bathrobe slung over his arm. The door unlocked, and there was Yoshi craning around the corner in a towel. He still had his knit cap and sunglasses on, and both were dripping. In a moment they did a fast exchange, wet clothes for the bathrobe and tea.

As he loaded the dryer, Tatsuha cursed himself. _Now he'll hate me forever._ _Why did I kiss him? He asked me not to, dammit._

The door to the laundry room opened, and there stood Yoshi in Tohma's bathrobe.

"Want me to dry your cap?" Tatsuha offered.

"I still have it on?" Yoshi asked. "God, I forgot about it completely. Just a second." He reached upwards, then stopped at a thought. "Will a kiss kill me? Is that what you said in the park? It damn near did, Tatsuha."

"I am incredibly sorry," the teenager said fervently. A small smile crossed Yoshi's lips. "I suppose it's all karma. I soaked someone else this morning in a stupid accident, so it's only fitting I should get doused as well. And I suppose, too, it's time you found out."

Yoshi pulled the sodden cap off his head, letting long, wet strands of brown hair fall around his face. Then he slid his sunglasses down his nose, showing his blue eyes.

It was Ryuichi Sakuma.

* * *

Continued in Chapter 6.


	6. Chapter 6

Tatsuha felt as if all his nerves had been plucked like a guitar string. His gaze flew to Ryuichi's ear. Yes, the piercings were there. _But I was too distracted by that damn cap to notice them. Was that why he wore it?_

"Ry--Ryuichi?" _Oh, my God, it's GOD. RYUICHI!_

"I shouldn't have deceived you this long."

_I kissed him! I can't believe it. I kissed him and I didn't even know it was him!_

"I recognized you in that store--"

_Oh no, I licked his picture in a lascivious manner right in front of him! I told him I wanted to MARRY him. _Tatsuha rested his forehead against the brick wall next to the dryer, and considered beating his brains out.

"--because I saw you earlier today, sleeping on Tohma's couch."

_I told him he wouldn't be able to walk for a week after sex with me._ Tatsuha's face fell into his hands. _Kami-sama, how could you do this to me? _

"Tatsuha? Tatsuha?"

The teenager was hugging himself, staring down at the floor. "I uh, really embarrassed myself back at that shop, didn't I?"

Ryuichi paused, as if trying to think of how to put this. Then he smiled broadly. "Yeah, you did."

"Gawd!" Tatsuha's entire body flinched. In pitiful tones, the teenager asked, "Why didn't you stop me?"

"I was curious to see what you'd say next. It was pretty funny."

"Funny!" Tatsuha was near tears. Every stupid adolescent remark he'd made came rolling through his mind.

Ryuichi was watching him closely. In a more serious tone, he said, "Tatsuha, I need to talk to you."

The teenager knew what those words meant. Refusing to look at the other man, he said, "You said you weren't interested in men. Was that true only of Yoshi? Or Ryuichi as well?"

"For both," the singer replied softly. "I'm sorry. If I were, I would pick you. You're very attractive."

Tatsuha wanted to run out of the room. Ryuichi took his arm. "I'd like some privacy for our talk," said the singer, "in case someone walks in on us. You're staying in the guest bedroom? That will do."

The teenager's mortification was warring with his urge to stay with his idol, but he let himself be led along the hallway towards his bedroom.

"Just how much of Yoshi is you?" Tatsuha asked roughly. "He wasn't at all like your public self."

Ryuichi sighed. "He's very like me. And you're right, he's a side I don't show to the public. What did you think of him?"

"He was nice." Tatsuha was careful to be studying something else every time the singer glanced his way. "How come when you're being interviewed by the press, you act like such a--" He fumbled for the right word.

"Idiot?"

"No! I mean, a chibi."

"I prefer idiot," Ryuichi replied. "It's more truthful."

"But is it just an act, or is that really you?"

"It's both. I was that way as a child. I've never known what to say to the press, or our fans. Even after all these years, I _still_ don't. So I act for them."

"But what about Tohma? And Noriko? I've heard that you behave like a chibi in front of them, too."

Ryuichi sighed again. "You have to understand how hard it was for us when we first started. Practically no one came to our gigs, we were heckled, club owners screwed us out of our pay, our equipment got stolen. Tohma wanted to quit. He wasn't used to giving his best efforts only to have everyone jeer at him. Noriko wanted to give up, too. And so did I, often. But I couldn't let them see that. I was the leader of the band. If I let them know I was discouraged or fed up, they _definitely_ would have quit. It was my enthusiasm that kept us going. So I created this artificial person who acted for them, for the press, for the fans we picked up, for everyone, eventually. My chibi self soon became famous in his own right. He's amusing, so I won't destroy him. He's a Japanese icon, after all."

For the first time in minutes Tatsuha was looking Ryuichi in the eye. This was a sobering thing to hear.

"But what about the man on stage? You--change, then."

Ryuichi grinned. It was not a childish grin, but a sexy one, almost threatening. "Oh, he's real."

Tatsuha swallowed hard. "I think your clothes might be done. Let me get them." He was too nervous to stay a second longer. Ryuichi could be just as scary in real life as on stage.

When he returned with the clothes, he passed them to Ryuichi, and left the bedroom while the singer dressed. For a few seconds he leaned against the wall outside, his thoughts whirling. Then they abruptly settled on one fact. Ryuichi Sakuma was changing his clothes. Ryuichi Sakuma was STARK NAKED inside his bedroom AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

Tatsuha fell to his hands and knees, trying to see through the keyhole. _Dammit,_ he thought, _nothing_.

The door opened, catching Tatsuha by surprise. Ryuichi paused at the sight of the teenager and a faint smile crossed his face.

Blushing, Tatsuha entered the bedroom as the singer stepped back, still smiling in that enigmatic way.  Without his disfiguring hat or bulky coat Ryuichi was beautiful. The teenager began to feel faint from lovesickness.

"It's strange," said Tatsuha when he was able to jump-start his vocal cords. "That I haven't met you before. You've known my sister for years and met my brother Eiri at least a few times."

Sakuma perched on Tatsuha's desk while the teenager sat on the bed opposite. "I avoid them if possible. I can't stand either of your siblings. Sorry."

Tatsuha's reply faltered in his mouth.

"Do you want to know why?" Sakuma continued. "They're both selfish and prone to temper tantrums. They throw their opinions around like thunderbolts and with about as much damage. I've met my share of horrible people in life. I have no desire to meet any more." He gave Tatsuha a look difficult for the teenager to interpret. "I'd always had the impression you must be like them. Until today."

Tatsuha was stunned. Mika and Eiri, just by being Mika and Eiri, had RUINED all his previous chances to meet Ryuichi? For the first time in his life he felt ashamed of his glamorous siblings. He'd never paid much attention to any criticism of them before, but this hurt.

"Why," whispered Tatsuha, staring at the ground, "did you spend the afternoon with me, then?"

"You passed my test."

_Test?_

"You liked Ryuichi Sakuma as he essentially is, without knowing it. There are virtues to dressing like a fool, Tatsuha. It allows you to learn a great deal about the character of others. Most people would have held their noses and avoided me in that record store." He glanced sidelong at Tatsuha out of the corner of his sunglasses. "And I seem to have passed _your_ test."

Again that odd smile.

A faint hope appeared in Tatsuha's heart. But-- "You said you don't like men?" the teenager repeated plaintively.

Ryuichi shook his head no. "I'd like to be your friend, Tatsuha, but I don't want sex getting in the way."

Tatsuha could not reply.

"Burn that CD for me, will you?" Sakuma continued. "I do want a copy. And I want to see you again, but I'd better go, now."

Tatsuha turned his face away. He couldn't bear to see Ryuichi leave.  The singer paused by the door, watching him.

A very long moment passed.

_Click._

Tatsuha lifted his head slightly to see what that noise had been. Ryuichi's thumb was resting on the lock of the doorknob. It had been pushed in, and was now locked.

What?

The singer stepped away from the door. He crossed his arms and started pulling his T-shirt off over his head.

"What are you doing!" the teenager blurted. It was very hard to swallow all of a sudden, partially because of the tightness in his throat, partially because of the sudden lust he felt at the sight of that smooth, beautiful chest. The real thing, not a picture on a CD cover. "I thought you said you weren't interested in men."

Ryuichi dropped his T-shirt over a chair back, then smiled gently. "I'm not. But it won't kill me to do it with you once, either. You said that back at the fountain and you were right."

Tatsuha forced himself to swallow. Miserably, he replied, "You're only doing it because you feel sorry for me."

The singer stepped closer until he was standing in front of the boy. "I do feel attracted to you, Tatsuha, all gender aside."

"Ryuichi, I--"

The singer lifted the boy's chin upwards, and lowered his own face until it was close to Tatsuha's. With a very serious expression, Ryuichi asked, "Are you going to say no?"

The singer's steady gaze was almost terrifying. But Tatsuha gasped, "Hell, no! I want this."

Ryuichi nodded.

"But would you let me--," Tatsuha began timidly.

"--be seme?" the singer finished. Ryuichi closed his eyes briefly, as if he didn't care for this at all. Then he opened them again. "All right. This is for you, anyway." He sat on the bed and lay back, his hands behind his head as if he were modeling for a photograph. But without any smile.

Tatsuha halted. In that instant, he found himself thinking of Sanjiro and the memory froze him. He was asking Ryuichi to do for him exactly what Sanjiro had wanted from himself.

"No," said the teenager firmly. "We're not starting like that." He raised Ryuichi upwards, and kissed his cheek. "You're forgetting one thing. Seme means that I'm going to make you like it."

"Then I ought to let you start," Ryuichi replied doubtfully.

* * *

Later, mental pictures of that hour would come back to Ryuichi. For they only had an hour, until Mika came home.

Glimpses. The front of his jeans open, the white briefs being pushed down. The first touch between his legs. A finger lightly tickles the hairs at the base. A hesitant moment before the singer realizes this feels pleasant, having Tatsuha's fingers sliding down him. Then Tatsuha's warm mouth and lips there, licking, sucking. This was not very different from a girl doing the same thing. Not so bad, thought the singer, eyes half-shut.

I won't go all the way, Tatsuha assured him. You're not ready for that. But I can teach you this. A moist finger sliding inside him. Do you feel that? Let me know when I find the spot.

Tatsuha, I don't think I can climax like this. That finger feels so strange.

I know, you have to get used to it. Talking around the shaft, pausing to tongue the slit, other hand stroking the sac, then the mouth hard again, sliding down, teeth just brushing the fragile skin, the finger rubbing firmly inside.

A wild cry. A violent thrusting. Wetness.

I was wrong. Said like a drunken man. Oh, Gods.

Then Tatsuha's voice. Maybe I could, now. I've got two fingers in here, it's not too tight. Care to try?

Inhibitions loosened. All right. But please slick that rubber up first. An eye opens. Gods, he's got it on his face. Let me wipe it off, Tatsuha. A tongue licks. Maybe it tastes better if it's not your own.

A laugh. I think it's wonderful.

How can you tell? A tongue tastes his own tongue, a long kiss. Those two fingers still haven't left, another has joined them. Still working inside the opening. Let me help you put that on, your hands are sort of busy.

Another laugh. OH MY GOD!

What? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry!

No! You just touched me, that's all.

Wicked smile. So that's all I have to do, touch here like this, (sliding a finger along the covered length) and you instantly react? My, I never thought I was that good.

If you don't let go, this is going to end too fast.

I have to help you with the lube, don't I? Do you always travel around with this?

Uh--.

Don't answer. I'm not sure I want to know.

Aaaaagh.

What? Did I--.

No, it just feels TOO good.

Pause. Laying backwards. Tensing. Eyes shut. Yet hard again.

I don't think it'll be difficult for you, I've got three in here. A sliding out, and a pushing in.

Sharp suck of breath, a long still moment. Okay, do it.

Not yet. A smile. Why, Sakuma-san, this part of you still needs attention. And so soon after the first time? More evil fingers.

Not even noticing any pain now. But not sure about another peak, with that long thick shaft inside, but still, those fingers.

After a time, Wrong Again.

Hard thrusting, finally. The boy gasps, falls forward, is encircled. This is strange. The boy is shuddering in my arms as if he's a child. No one here is really dominant, no one really submissive, I see. He looks like he's about to cry. I lift his face for a kiss, and his mouth is very gentle on mine.

And then a goddamned car horn from outside.

"Tatsuha! I'm home! Help carry in these shopping bags!"

_Panic_.

* * *

Continued in chapter 7.


	7. Chapter 7

The two flew apart, Ryuichi grabbing for his briefs and jeans. Tatsuha was also trying to dress frantically. "She's inside the house," the boy whispered. "How do we explain you?"

"We don't," Ryuichi retorted, throwing on his coat and grabbing his hat. "If it were just Tohma, I'd stay. But you're Mika's baby brother and she'd kill me." With that, the singer raised the window and swung his legs out, landing in a bush.

"Ryuichi, I have to be back in Kyoto on Monday!" Tatsuha cried after him in anguish. But the singer was already running down the sidewalk.

In that second, a thump landed on the bedroom door. The lock popped open, obviously unable to resist the trick of someone who knew it well. Tatsuha ‘acked,' and leapt over to shut the window. He was wearing only his jeans.  "_WELL, EXCUSE ME,_" said the teenager in his most acid tones, glaring.

Mika stepped in and saw her half-naked brother. The bush outside was still twitching from Ryuichi's plunge. "You didn't have to shove your girlfriend out the window. You could have asked her to stay for dinner," Mika said.

Too surprised to reply for a moment, Tatsuha retrieved his shirt and buttoned it up. "What are you talking about? You just woke me from a nap."

"Uh-huh, with your shirt off, and the window open on a winter day. Weren't you bitching about the cold earlier? Come and help me with the bags." She left the room, grinning archly.

Tatsuha stared out the window after Ryuichi.

Now what?

* * *

Dinner that night was awful for Tatsuha.

"Tatsuha had a girl in his bedroom a little earlier," Mika said to her husband, "and he threw her out the window when I came in. He did use protection, though. I found the rubber while poking through the trash in his bedroom."

_Shut up shut up shut up shut up._

"Good," replied Tohma. "At least he won't be paying child support while he's still a legal minor himself."

_You fucker, shut up or I'll kill you._

"Mika, are you sure it was a girl? He's being awfully quiet about it."

Mika stared intently at the teenager. "You're right. He _is_ being very quiet. But if it were a boy, he'd be bragging about that, too."

"Did you really want that much soy sauce with your rice?" Tohma asked.

Tatsuha looked down. He'd poured half the bottle into his rice bowl and the grains were swimming.

"But if it wasn't a girl and it wasn't a boy, what's left?" Mika queried. "Animals?"

"Will you two knock it off!" Tatsuha finally shouted.

"Is this my brother? He's being modest? He must have a fever." She leaned over to feel his forehead. "His temperature's okay. I don't understand this."

Tohma gave Tatsuha a sideways look. "Maybe he's in love."

Tatsuha reddened. "Hey! Leave me alone." _I wish I'd stayed at Eiri's. Neither he nor Shuichi would have given me this crap._

"All right," Mika conceded. Tohma, however, was studying him intently.

* * *

That evening, Tohma entered the guest bedroom while Tatsuha was playing a CD over the room's stereo system.

"What is this awful music you're playing?" Seguchi huffed in a reproving, middle-aged way.

Tatsuha, who had been trying (without success) to concentrate on a history assignment instead of Ryuichi, blinked at his brother-in-law. With profound relish, he replied, "It's Nittle Grasper's first album."

Tohma stood still for a long moment, listening. Then he colored. "It's the instrumental, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," the teenager replied maliciously.

"Gah! I think I even wrote this piece." Seguchi shook his head. "It's been over a decade since I've heard it. Oh, well."

"Did you have something you needed to talk about?" Tatsuha prompted. He was thoroughly enjoying this. Payback for all that crap over dinner.

"Yes. K just called and said he'd like to talk to you."

"Me?"

"Yes. He wants you to stop by his apartment tomorrow morning." Tohma narrowed his eyes. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing!" Tatsuha protested. He honestly couldn't think why the American would need to see him. And at K's apartment? That was strange. Why couldn't the American just drop by here?

* * *

Continued in chapter 8.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning Tatsuha nervously stepped inside K's apartment after the big American opened the door. Tall for a Japanese, Tatsuha was not used to having to look up when he spoke.

"Nice place," he started to say politely, then broke off. There were cardboard boxes and shopping bags everywhere. K had a large apartment for Tokyo, but he had almost no free space.

"Used to be nice," K corrected, shutting the door. "My wife visited a few weeks ago, went shopping, and now this." The American glanced around in disgust. "It's just her auxiliary storage unit at the moment." He shook his head.

"Doesn't your absence bother her?" Tatsuha asked.

K shrugged. "We're not on the best of terms, though we're not divorced. There's still some attraction left. Have a seat."

Tatsuha found a spot at the end of the sofa. A feeling of nervous dread was in his stomach, though he had no idea why.

"I suppose I should get right to business," said K, taking a chair next to the teenager. He was looking out the windows. A black folder was resting on the glass table by his side.

_He doesn't want to look at me,_ Tatsuha realized. _He's not happy about this situation. _The teenager's anxiety increased. _Why has he asked me here? What's wrong?_

"Do you recognize this?" K asked, holding up a strip of paper. Tatsuha studied the rumpled thing and shook his head no. Then he went still, remembering the numbers.

Sanjiro's phone number.

K's eyes were unpleasantly hard. "I think you do," the American said coldly. He glanced away again. "This is the cell phone number of one Sanjiro Tanaka. Age forty-three, present occupation, truck driver. He's done time in prison for some of his activities. He was an errand boy for some Yakuza types in his teens, did a few years for that, and came out of the lockup with some unusual tastes, apparently. He went back to prison for them later. One male aged fourteen, name unknown, charged Tanaka with rape. The jury was doubtful--kid's word against Tanaka's, so they gave him a light sentence. Tanaka came out swearing he'd reformed, though he began to acquire a reputation at some of the bars in the larger cities he's traveled through. Rumor has it he's picked up a few men and driven off with them, and they haven't been seen since."

Tatsuha's face lost its suavity.

"I have friends in the police department here.  They traced this number for me and gave me Tanaka's history." K finally turned to face him. "When I drove out to have dinner with you people the other day, I stopped at a highway turnoff to wait for a light. I saw a rig pull over and let out a kid, and the driver gave this kid some money. I thought that was odd, since hitchhikers don't usually get paid by their rides, and I was sure I was witnessing a drug deal. So imagine my surprise when the kid shows up at my dinner. Buddhist monk, even."

"It wasn't a drug deal," Tatsuha replied in a rush.

"I know. I wasn't sure though, when you threw up and fainted at dinner. I thought you'd taken something but you didn't seem high. So I went through your backpack while you were recovering on the couch and found two bloody pairs of underwear. Then I knew it was THAT sort of deal. And you took money for it. 3,000 yen, as I discovered when I asked you for beer change. A Buddhist monk, a kid."

K had been holding a pen in his hand, studying it. Now he looked up. His eyes were icy.

Tatsuha's heart stopped. "Is THAT what you think? It wasn't! I swear to God!"

"Then why did you take the money?"

"I didn't! I was just standing there when he called me over to the cab, and he handed me the money. I didn't expect it at all. I was too surprised to react when he did it."

K put the pen down and rested his chin on his fist, looking intently at his visitor. "But you had sex with him?"

Tatsuha was speechless. What could he say that would keep him out of trouble?

"Did you?" K repeated. "Don't lie to me, kid."

"Yes," said Tatsuha finally. "But I didn't intend to take money for it."

K opened his notebook. "After finding out about Tanaka, I had one of my friends in the police department pay him a visit, to find out what happened. He bullied the driver a bit and got some sort of story out of him. Tanaka claims you sell yourself for a living."

"I do NOT," Tatsuha shouted.

"Tanaka also claims he paid you for a bit of ‘roughness.' He wouldn't clarify, but later waffled, saying he ‘may have dropped a cigarette by accident.' What does that mean?"

Tatsuha only stared at him.

"I might have believed his testimony, except for two things. You threw up after you walked into Tohma's and you fainted at dinner. What happened?"

Haltingly, Tatsuha told him an abbreviated version of the story. K didn't react, except for a narrowing of his eyes.

When the teenager finished, K closed his notebook. "So basically, your gonads got you into trouble," the American concluded. "You're damned lucky. My cop friend made Tanaka go to the doctor for tests. He doesn't have STDs, _at the moment,_ which is more than you might expect from a guy who's been dumb enough to have caught the clap twice. I have Tanaka's transcript in here, as well as the cop's questions. All nice and official. So kid, what are you going to pay me to keep this out of the hands of your father and your siblings?"

"WHAT THE HELL!" Tatsuha shouted. "What do you mean, PAY? What are you talking about?"

"You heard me. What are you going to pay me? I know you don't have any money."  K gave a very unpleasant smile.  "Therefore, I'll settle for what you gave Tanaka." He stood up, facing Tatsuha, and the teenager threw himself right over the back of the couch.  Tatsuha dashed for the front door and tried to open it.

"It's locked," K called out. "Come back here."

"You're crazy!" Tatsuha yelled. "You can't be doing this, you're blackmailing me!"

"From what I've seen of your morals, kid, you couldn't care less. And it would be if I were getting money," K replied, leisurely coming after the teenager. Tatsuha ran around the dining room table, trying to keep his distance.

"Quit running away," K said, leaning over the table. "What's your problem? You didn't say no to Ryuichi."

"WHAT THE HELL?" Tatsuha cried.

"He always wears my tracker," K smiled, edging around the table, "for safety reasons. His tracker died when it became soaked in water. I asked him what happened and he told me. Ryuichi never hides anything from me."

Tatsuha was stunned. He couldn't believe that Ryuichi had betrayed him like this._  
_

"Don't look so shocked. I was his manager and closest friend for years." K gave a little lunge, and Tatsuha rounded the other side of the table in a panic. "What's your problem?" K retorted. "Just lay down on the couch."

"Dammit, _keep away from me!_"

"Hey, kid. I haven't seen my wife in ages, I can't shag my clients, and I don't know why a man with my looks should have to pay for sex. What are you fussing about? My gun's still in its holster. Though something else isn't." K smiled unpleasantly.

"I'm not in the mood," Tatsuha snarled.

"Kid, this his blackmail," K retorted. "You'd better be in the mood." Then he ran.

As Tatsuha tried for the living room again, he was tackled to the floor. The two slid into some boxes. As K pinned him to the floor, Tatsuha panicked utterly. He screamed his lungs out.

For a moment, K did nothing but study the terrified boy. Tatsuha was crying now, trembling far worse than he had with Sanjiro.

K leaned back and let go. Tatsuha scooted away from him but was stopped by more boxes. K stepped away, still watching the boy. The American sat down in the chair he had vacated earlier and opened his folder. Removing a sheaf of paper from it, he began to slowly tear it into strips.  Then he lifted his eyebrows and said, "It's about time you cracked, you smug little bastard. It took long enough. Learned your lesson yet?"

"_What?_" Tatsuha gasped.

"I said," K repeated, tossing scraps of paper into the trash, "learned your lesson yet?"

For a very long time, it seemed, Tatsuha could only stare at the American. It took forever for the teenager's paralyzed mind to work.

"Kid," K finally said. "Get out of here. I'm heterosexual. Completely. Now go."

Tatsuha ran for the front door. It was still locked and he was fighting mindlessly with the handle when K leaned over his shoulder and unlocked it. Tatsuha flinched aside and K grabbed his arm. "Don't you EVER get into trouble with another Tanaka again,"the American said sternly.

Tatsuha shot out of the door, running down the hall for the elevator.

K looked at his watch. The little brat ought to be recovering his cool pretty soon. The American didn't think the fright he gave Tatsuha was, on its own, going to be enough to change the teenager's behavior. However, the second part of the boy's lesson would be coming up right after Tatsuha returned to Tohma's.

* * *

Continued in chapter 9.


	9. Chapter 9

The long dash to Tohma's removed some of the shock of the encounter with K, though none of Tatsuha's fury. He couldn't believe what K had just done. But as he ran inside the house, he encountered something else, something he'd never seen before.

An openly angry, glaring Tohma.

"So," Seguchi began, "K tells me you've been having pickup sex with strangers, namely a truck driver by the name of Tanaka."

_Oh God, not this,_ thought Tatsuha. _Not right after that asshole K._ He shut his eyes for a second, trying to get his breath back. He was not in the mood for another fight. But he had to face his brother-in-law.

"I suppose you've already heard the details from him," replied the teenager angrily. "Just say what you have to say."

"Was it consensual?" Tohma asked.

Tatsuha was silent for a long moment. "I didn't want to do it, but I didn't fight it. I don't know what the hell it was."

"Could you have said no?"

"I suppose. I don't know how he would have taken it, though."

"In other words, you didn't have a choice. For God's sake, Tatsuha. You came within a hair's breadth of being kidnapped, maybe even murdered, if what K tells me about that driver is true."

Tatsuha only watched him, waiting.

"It's time I said something about your sexual behavior. You're out of control."

"Hey! You've never said anything like this to Eiri and he's no worse than I am," Tatsuha replied indignantly.

"Eiri doesn't have the vaguest idea of what is normal, sexually speaking, and thanks to him neither do you. Your brother," Seguchi replied coldly, "had an abusive love affair with Kitazawa, was raped when he was sixteen, and began going through women like cans of beer soon after. Even worse, he began procuring girls for _you_. What kind of man procures for his own brother, a mere boy? How young were you when he started doing this? Thirteen? Twelve?"

Tatsuha paled.

"He's taught you that loveless sex is normal, which is a terrible crime. No, maybe I've got this wrong," continued Seguchi in that same deadly tone. "Eiri was procuring, but not for you. It was for all those girlfriends he couldn't satisfy. _They_ were the clients and _you_ were the whore."

"I've heard enough!" Tatsuha shouted. "Where's Mika?"

"The house is empty. I made sure both she and Kumiko went out this morning. And no, it's not enough. There's still Ryuichi."

"What about him?" _No, did K tell--_

"He told me he'd had an--encounter--with you at this house."

"R--Ryuichi?" Tatsuha couldn't believe this. _Ryuichi himself_ had told Seguchi? Even though the singer had been trying to hide the knowledge from Mika?

Seguchi was scowling. "Well, you finally succeeded. You seduced your idol. How old are you?"

Tatsuha said nothing.

"I asked, HOW OLD ARE YOU?"

"Sixteen," was the sullen reply.

"Which shows how much you really care for his welfare. He can go to jail, now. If you'd really loved him, you would never have put him in that sort of danger."

"I wouldn't EVER--"

"That doesn't matter, dammit! All it takes is one nosy photographer or a reporter when you're not paying attention, and his life is ruined! Do you want to do that to him?" Seguchi was yelling now.

Tatsuha was near tears. "No!"

"Good." Tohma glanced aside. "Ryuichi also asked me to tell you this. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, but he doesn't want to see you again."

"_What?_"

"That's the essence of it. Basically, Ryuichi said, ‘he's too young and I'm not even gay. This will be best for him in the long run.'"

At this, Tatsuha finally did cry. He turned around to keep Seguchi from seeing his face.

"You're so naive," Tohma continued in a milder tone. "You have sex with a perfect stranger without realizing how dangerous it is, and you think this famous rock musician you've known only a few hours is going to fall in love with you."

Tatsuha couldn't say anything as he stared out the front windows. They were melting and warping.

"Why do you think Ryuichi has never married? None of his relationships has ever lasted, Tatsuha. _None._ He doesn't have the ability to commit himself. He doesn't even see the need. He can take what he wants and walk off. He's not what you expect."

"Nice to know that you think your own bandmate's a jerk," replied Tatsuha bitterly.

"It was always the music that came first. Nittle Grasper didn't form because we were nice guys. Get over your stupid fanboy crush," Seguchi continued. "It was always ridiculous anyhow."

Tatsuha was trying to swallow. "Is that everything?" he asked, low.

"Most of it."

Tatsuha started towards the front door, but was jerked to a stop by Seguchi's grip. "You're not leaving this house," Tohma ordered.

The teenager absorbed this and waited until he was released. He still refused to look at his brother-in-law. But as he began to head for the guest bedroom, Tohma caught him again.

"One last thing," Seguchi said. "If you try to contact Ryuichi or bother him in any way, I'll tell him about Tanaka, and that you sold yourself for sex."

Tatsuha turned around slowly. This time he didn't care if Seguchi saw his tears. "You MOTHERFUCKER," he shouted. "You KNOW that's a LIE."

"K's word will be enough. Ryuichi trusts him and K supports me in this."

Tatsuha jerked his arm out of his brother-in-law's grasp and ran for the guest bedroom. He couldn't even think. He looked at the window Ryuichi had jumped out of yesterday and saw a ghost, the image of the singer leaving him forever.

Tatsuha swung.

The glass exploded as his fist went through. He pulled his hand back out and swung again and again, pounding every speck of glass out of the frame.

"Tatsuha!" Tohma shouted. The teenager felt himself being jerked backwards by the shoulders. Seguchi yanked the pillowcase off the bed and bound it around the bloody hand, which was bleeding surprisingly fast. In seconds, it seemed, the pillowcase was soaked. Then Tohma was shoving him out of the room, over towards the garage, and into the passenger seat of a car.

"We overdid it, dammit, we overdid it," Seguchi muttered to himself as he gunned the car off to the emergency room.

* * *

Continued in chapter 10.


	10. Chapter 10

"That window has to be finished before my wife arrives," Tohma demanded over his cell phone.

Tatsuha listened dully to this harangue, watching the doctor apply the stitches. He'd been given painkillers, though it still hurt as they probed and removed bits of glass. He didn't want to think about anything at all, right now.

"We're going to wrap your hand up to keep you from moving it too much at first," the doctor was saying cheerfully.

Tatsuha nodded.

"Don't look so depressed, kid. You'll be fine."

A few winds of the bandages and Tatsuha was done. Seguchi nodded firmly at the doctor and said a few words the teenager didn't catch. Then Tohma drove him home.

Tatsuha gazed out the car window silently, expecting a lecture. But it seemed that Tohma felt he'd had enough for today. When they arrived home, they found Kumiko had returned. She was eyeing them.

"Is everything okay?" Tohma asked her.

"The workmen just left, and so did the cleaning crew."

"Good. Actually, I should have asked them to stay a little longer."

There was a decorative table at the bottom of the stair landing.  Tohma picked up an antique rose-colored wine glass from it and smashed it against the table. Both Kumiko and Tatsuha jumped.

"What are you doing?" the teenager blurted.

"Manufacturing your excuse. You were running down the stairs, lost your balance and started to fall. You knocked over this wine glass when you did and cut yourself. I'll take the shards to the trash myself, Kumiko. Don't look so shocked."

"Y–yes, Seguchi-san."

"And you." Tohma took his brother-in-law by the shoulders. "No more trouble, all right?"

Tatsuha nodded, recognizing the threat in those words and went off to the guest bedroom. There, he noticed that not only had the glass been replaced, but all the shards had been cleaned up, too. Not a speck of blood was left anywhere. Even the pillowcase had been replaced.

He gazed at the window, the image of Ryuichi still etched in his mind. He would never forget it. Had Ryuichi Sakuma really been lying on his bed, holding him? Had it all actually happened? Where was the singer now?

He wanted to talk to Ryuichi, to beg for another meeting. _I can't believe he'd tell me through Tohma that we can't see each other again. He wasn't that much of a creep. At least he'd tell me so himself. I think. He said he wanted to be my friend, if sex didn't get in the way. God, I don't even know his phone number._

The teenager went to the kitchen. "Kumiko? Has anyone left a message on the answering machine for me?"

For a second, the cook looked at the boy. "I'm afraid not, Tatsuha-kun."

"Thank you," he said, and went back to his room. There he sat for a while, until his sister returned. She came into the bedroom to examine his bandages and hear his story, and he lied rather well, he thought.

_Dammit, what if Tohma was right? What if he never calls?_

He ate dinner.

"You look like you're dying. The glass wasn't that expensive, clumsy."

"I'm just ticked off about it," Tatsuha replied.

"Well, don't have terminal depression," Mika said.

After dinner he went to his room. For weekend homework, he claimed. His cell phone was on. _But he doesn't know the number. He'll have to call the house. I should go out and hang around in case he calls, but I can't face my sister or Tohma._

He worked math problems left-handed. It took all his willpower to make himself concentrate on the equations. But at eleven o'clock they were done.

_Sunday night._

His door opened.

"Tatsuha?"

It was Seguchi. "I'm driving you to Kyoto in the morning. But as far as your sister is concerned, I'm just leaving for work and dropping you off at the train station on the way."

Tatsuha nodded. Three hours with Tohma in a car? He'd rather slit his throat. And what would Seguchi say to his father?

The door shut. Tatsuha sat on his bed and picked up his Walkman. The CD was gone, he remembered. Just like Ryuichi.

At midnight he heard the Seguchis head for their bedroom and saw the lights going out under his door. He lay back with the cell phone on the bedside table next to him and tried to think of nothing. He didn't bother to change his clothes, or get under the covers.

At one o'clock the cell phone startled him from his doze. He dropped it at first, grabbing for it with his bandaged hand.

"Tatsuha?" a strange voice asked.

"Yes," he answered, confused. Who was this?

"It's Ryuichi. I need to talk to you."

Tatsuha's reply was an embarrassing gurgle.

"What was that?" Sakuma asked.

"Just me being incoherent. It's sort of late and my brain's fried. You need to see me?" His heart was pounding. Was this the polite goodbye? "I suppose you and Tohma talked about me," Tatsuha managed to say.

"What?"

Tatsuha couldn't speak for a moment. "I--didn't you tell Tohma about us this afternoon? He knew."

A long pause at the other end. "I didn't tell anyone, except K. Tohma must have found out from him."

"You haven't spoken to Tohma at all?!" Tatsuha exclaimed.

"No."

_That motherfucker,_ Tatsuha raged silently.

"Tatsuha, I . . . I need to see you," the singer repeated, stammering.

In an apartment a few blocks away, a man was sitting naked on a bed, half-covered with a sheet. Kumagoro was on his knees, and the man's face was pressed hard against the rabbit to stifle a groan. Ryuichi peeked down at his waist, then drew his knees closer. _Oh, God. You shouldn't see this, Kumagoro._

"My address is--"

Tatsuha flew off the bed, scrambling for a pen and paper. He had never taken a note so fast in his life.

"And bring whatever you'll need for the morning," Ryuichi concluded in a rush.

_Wha--?_

"Goodbye." The voice was gone.

Tatsuha stared at his cell phone. Then he did a backflip right over his bed, remembering just in time not to scream like an idiot.

A few seconds later he'd filled his backpack, thrown open the window, and jumped out. To follow after Ryuichi.

* * *

_Uesugis sleep like stones._

"What a stupid thing to do," Ryuichi said aloud, staring up at the shadowy ceiling. He turned over to watch Tatsuha sleeping. It was three o'clock in the morning.

"How'd you hurt your hand, Tatsuha? You said you'd tell me later. Why later? I hope you didn't hurt yourself because of me."

Tatsuha's breathing was slow, undisturbed. Ryuichi remembered how nervous the boy had been as he entered the apartment, trying to hide his hand, shying away from Ryuichi's suggestion that they change places this time. But something had happened. The boy's confidence was gone, and it was different from their last session on a bed together. Tatsuha's face had been pure fear as the singer positioned the boy beneath him. Gradually, Ryuichi had gentled the look into trust, then roused it hard into ecstasy.

"It scared me when I saw the bandages. Then I was relieved they weren't on your wrist."

The singer frowned. He could guess what Tohma had said to the boy. He thought over his bandmate for a while, then pondered the other matter, this new and troubling aspect of his own sexuality. Finally he rolled over, placing his lips close to the boy's ear. "Ryuichi-Sense?" he breathed into it. The singer made a faint scoffing noise, but found himself smiling.

"One soul calling to another, is that what you said? I think you really do love me. And I think you love me too much for your own good." He lifted himself up so his mouth was poised just above Tatsuha's. "It would kill you if I broke things off, wouldn't it," he whispered.

For another long moment the singer watched. He leaned down, and tasted Tatsuha's lips with his tongue, breathing in their flavor, imprinting the scent on his memory.

A sigh. "But right now, I think it would kill me, too."

* * *

Continued in Chapter 11.


	11. Chapter 11

The first thing Tatsuha saw when he woke was Tohma. Seguchi was leaning against the wall opposite the bed, in sunglasses and coat. Mika stood next to him with a taut, unreadable expression on her face. Oddly enough, Shuichi was there too, grinning. Tatsuha felt his right arm being lifted by the wrist and saw Eiri. The writer was studying the bandages. Like Seguchi, they were all dressed in winter coats.

A pool of warmth on his left side made him turn, yearning to soak it up--

And there was Ryuichi, looking down at him with a gentle expression. The singer had drawn the blanket up around them both.

Tatsuha's eyes flew towards Seguchi. He decided he wasn't in the mood to be mature, so he gave his brother-in-law the finger in a sleepy way.

"I suppose I deserve that," Seguchi commented.

"All of you, GET OUT," Tatsuha yelled.

"They can stay," Ryuichi objected softly. Tatsuha looked at him and thought, Aw, their first lover's spat. How cute.

The door to the bedroom opened and there stood K in the doorway, cleaning a gun. "Hey, I had the politeness to stay in the living room," said the American with a grin.

"Okay, everyone just hang around then," the teenager complained, "and ogle us while we're dressing."

"Sure!" Shuichi replied impishly.

"Baka!"

Shuichi only giggled.

"What happened to your hand?" Eiri asked.

"Had a stupid little accident."

"Oh?" Eiri jerked his chin towards Ryuichi. "Now, what about_ that_ stupid little accident?"

"Tatsuha." Mika's voice held a dangerous note. "I'd like to speak to you after you're dressed, _which had better be soon._ I'm ready to kill you. I woke up to find you and all your stuff gone. We really panicked. Then Tohma thought to call Ryuichi. You should have_ told_ us you'd be here, you dumb brat."

"Looks like he's feeling guilty," said Shuichi, snickering.

Tohma glanced at Ryuichi. "Mind if I brew some coffee?"

"Go ahead. I'd like to speak to you alone, as well," the singer replied.

Seguchi nodded. As he left with his wife, he said in a low voice to Eiri, "Next time, he stays with _you_."

Eiri raised an eyebrow.

* * *

After the visitors emptied the room, Tatsuha asked worriedly, "What are we going to say to them?"

"I'll take care of Tohma. He's easier to persuade than you think."

"But what about K?"

"He's not our enemy, Tatsuha. He was the one who gave me your phone number."

"He _what?_"

"I asked him for it yesterday morning. He also said that if we were determined to become lovers, he'd have to talk to you about--," the singer hesitated, "--monogamy."

Tatsuha's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. He had the _blanking_ talk with me."

"What exactly did he say?"

"You don't know?"

"No."

"_Good_. Keep it that way."

In a murderous mood, Tatsuha rose from the bed, only to be jerked back down by the grip on his wrist. His anger softened under the singer's kiss.

"Once more," said Ryuichi. A roll, and Tatsuha was pinned beneath him.

"Um, like, we need to get dressed?"

Tatsuha's knee, forced upwards by Ryuichi, banged the teenager right in the nose.  "Ow!"

"Sorry. You're very limber, you know."

"It's the yoga I do. But Ryu, people are waiting for us--"

"People are supposed to wait for me." Fingers, smeared fast and slick, shoved inside with little politeness. Tatsuha made a shocked, strangling noise. Other fingers feather-tipped up the long shaft, then closed hard. The skin of Ryuichi's fingers was broken and rough, from chording guitar strings.

"And--and they're madder than hell." The teenager gave a little moan of pain. This hurt, but it felt good.

The singer was rubbing, watching idly, his mouth in a smug little quirk. Tatsuha's eyes shut. The teenager's hand, resting by his cheek, gave an involuntary spasm as the sensation built. Tatsuha swallowed hard. "Let me," he breathed, gesturing towards the singer's waist.

"No. I want something else. Are you ready?"

"Urk."

"I'm going to have to learn how to read your ‘yes' someday. If that was a 'no,' too bad."

Tatsuha had one brief second of relief, then he was full again. His whole body began to jerk from Ryuichi's thrusts, and from the violent hand working on him. It was as though he were weightless, inching along the sheets against his will. His last coherent thought was that the bedsprings were embarrassingly loud.

* * *

In the living room, Mika glanced at her watch. "What's taking them so goddamned long?" she complained. She reached for the handle of the bedroom door.  Eiri, who was standing next to it, grabbed her wrist.

"I wouldn't do that."

After a short tug-of-war, she managed to free herself. "Why not?" she demanded.

Shuichi and K exchanged puzzled looks. "Yeah, why not?" Shuichi asked.

"Blown your hearing out at too many clubs, I see," was the writer's cryptic reply.

* * *

Inside the bedroom . . . .

_Thud_.

"Yowch!"

"Sorry. I'm used to rolling off my tatami mat at home. I can't get the hang of these Western-style beds. At least I was on the bottom."

"No, it was my fault. I was the one pushing." They had landed with the blanket, tangled up together. Reluctantly, the singer pulled out of the sleek, heated constriction, then noticed the redness. "Dammit. I have to learn to be more careful with you."

"Hey, what's a little blood between friends? And I think it was the fall, not you."

"Not the way I was going at it." Ryuichi lay back down, brushing his lips against the sweaty hollow of the teenager's throat.

A long pause. Both were breathing hard, resting.

"Ryu, I have to leave for Kyoto this morning," Tatsuha said forlornly.

"When can I see you again?" the singer asked. His curved finger stroked along his lover's jaw.

"God, I don't even know." A conveyor belt of obligations ran through Tatsuha's head. "It's tough to get away between school and the temple."

"Then I'll come see you in Kyoto."

_What?_ Tatsuha had never imagined this. The great Ryuichi Sakuma commuting to Kyoto for _him?_ "Oh, Ryu, this is more  
than. . . ." He hugged his idol hard.

"I have more free time than you and more money for traveling. Kyoto has studios, too. But Tatsuha, you have to tell me how you hurt your hand."

The teenager's voice dropped to a whisper. "Seguchi said you didn't want to see me again. I was so upset I punched out a window."

"I'm glad you didn't hit Tohma. I like Tohma." Ryuichi smiled. "And don't worry about what he said." He kissed Tatsuha's cheek. "I'll always see you again."

* * *

Continued in chapter 12.


	12. Chapter 12

When Ryuichi entered his kitchen, Tohma was waiting for him. There was a small piece of business the singer needed to have out with his bandmate.

"So you ignored me," Seguchi said. "Even after I told you yesterday about that trucker, Sanjiro Tanaka."  Only someone who knew Tohma well could have detected the fight in those smooth tones. Ryuichi heard it.

"I remember every ugly little word you said," the singer replied. "Now, go to hell."

Tohma blinked once. It was quite a reaction for him, though.

"You said the boy sold himself, but I know you don't always speak the truth. So I double-checked with K. You seem to think the whole thing was Tatsuha's fault. It wasn't. The real criminal was that Tanaka monster. Do you have anything else to say?"

"He's below legal age and you could be staring at iron bars for a long time, Ryu."

"It all depends on our discretion and Tatsuha sure won't put me there," Ryuichi replied hotly. "And he won't be under eighteen forever. This is none of your business, anymore."

"It IS my business if it affects our band and NG!"

Ryuichi did not reply. He poured himself a cup of coffee, sugared it well, and took a drink. "Do you remember," he mused, staring out a window, "that time a few years ago when NG was in all those financial difficulties and you sold most of your NG stock to me to pay off the debts?"

Seguchi tensed.

"I know you really like your job as head of NG. It would be a shame if the majority shareholder voted to replace you at the next board meeting. That would be so unpleasant."

Tohma, in a show of bravado, poured himself a cup of coffee as well. "That would make personal relations in the band quite difficult," Seguchi agreed.

"True. I can't have Nittle Grasper rent apart by quarrels, so I would also have to hire a new keyboard player."

Tohma took a long drink of his black coffee. "All right," he said after a moment. A peculiar smile crossed his face, tinged with sourness. "You get your way, as usual."

Ryuichi put an arm around his bandmate's shoulder. "You're my friend, Tohma. I don't want anything interfering with that."

"Just trying to do what's best for you."

"Most of the time," Ryuichi corrected. "Now go away, Tohma," he added lightly, as if flicking a speck of dust off Kumagoro.

"My wife is going to murder you if you hurt him."

"I know that. I'll look after him."

"But the media--"

"Who cares? I haven't told them the truth for years."

Tohma exhaled hard. "You still have to talk to Mika about him."

"I do?" asked Ryuichi, his eyes widening.

"Yes."

"Didn't she sort of get it when she saw him in my bed?"

Seguchi smiled coldly. "Yes, but you still have to explain that _you're going to be a good husband to her little brother_. Responsibility, Ryu, responsibility."

"Oh," said the singer. He had the feeling this would be difficult.

* * *

While Tatsuha waited in the bedroom, Eiri came back in. He shut the door on the crowd behind him and lit a cigarette.

"I'm trying to unravel the mystery here," said the writer. "First, you come to Tokyo but don't even drop by to see me or Shuichi. Second, K calls this morning asking for your whereabouts. Third, Mika calls, asking for your whereabouts, and saying you wiped out on a wine glass last night. Fourth, Tohma Seguchi, the important Shacho of NG Records, says he's driving you, an ordinary teenage boy, to Kyoto this morning. He also asks me for your whereabouts. Fifth, I find you in bed with Ryuichi." The writer waited for a reply, but received none. "If you'd hurt the palm of your hand like Mika said, the bandages wouldn't be on the back of it."

"Sounds like you should be writing mysteries instead of romances, Aniki."

"Thank you. Care to explain?"

"Not really."

"All right. I'll let you off now, but don't expect me to rescue you from Mika. Want a cigarette, brat? It might fortify your nerves before you go out to face her."

"No, thanks. Second-hand smoke will hurt Ryu's voice, so I'm giving up smoking."

"God!" The writer shook his head in wonder.

* * *

When Ryuichi entered the living room with Tatsuha to face the crowd, he yelled in pain. Mika had caught him by the hair and was jerking his head back.

"Aneki, knock it off, you're hurting him!"

"I ought to scalp this FILTH alive. Do you want to end your career as a heartthrob with your face rammed down a toilet?"

"Hey! I'm the one who seduced him, so leave him alone. I'm of age to do this in America."

"But not in Japan," said Tohma.

"Then we'll move to America!" Tatsuha shouted back angrily as he tried to pry his sister's fingers off Ryuichi.

Mika glared at her brother. "I knew you'd be unreasonable. All right, Sakuma." She let go, then did something that startled everybody. She snatched K's gun from his holster and clicked the safety off. Then she raised the gun.

"What do you think you're doing?" K demanded.

"Mika!" Tohma exclaimed.

His wife was sighting down her arms, both fists gripping the gun. "All right, Sakuma. Take your choice. Live or die." She was aiming right at the singer's face.

"No!" Tatsuha shrieked. He threw himself around his lover.

Ryuichi narrowed his eyes. "Die," he said.

For a moment Mika looked perturbed. "Hey, you idiot, you aren't supposed to say that."

"_If you shoot him, I'll shoot you next!_" Tatsuha yelled at his sister.

In the doorway, Eiri shook his head in disapproval. He lit another cigarette.

"Uh, Yuki?" Shuichi asked, trying to get his boyfriend to do something.

"Stop grandstanding," the writer said to Mika. "At the very least, Ryuichi's fans would lynch you."

"But I'd be saving my brother's honor!" she retorted.

Eiri only lifted his eyebrows. "Honor? Are we discussing our little brother?"

"Yuki," Shuichi said in a pleading tone. "K?"

But the American was only standing by, watching with crossed arms. "Sorry, Shuichi. I stay out of things like this."

Mika was eyeing her brother. Tatsuha was trying to shield the singer with his body. "Would you really shoot me?" she asked him.

Eiri rolled his eyes. "You're not the one on all his posters, Aneki. Of course he'd blow you away. He's been insane for years. He could probably even get off on an insanity defense."

Mika was still staring at her brother. Tears were beginning to flow down Tatsuha's cheeks as he clutched Ryuichi.

In that moment, the gun barrel dropped. "All right," she said. She gave Ryuichi a venomous look. The singer's eyes replied with an evil glitter. Mika gave him a curt nod, like a duelist forced to be courteous to a foe in a drawing-room.

"Why aren't you trying to take this gun away from me!" she yelled at K. "Make yourself useful! Quit standing around!"

K shrugged, and casually removed the gun from her hand. "It's not loaded," K said. "I'd taken the bullets out earlier while cleaning it."

Tatsuha loosened his clench in relief, and gave Ryuichi a sudden, devouring kiss.

"You shouldn't have scared everybody like that, Mika-san," Tohma chided.

"DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THOSE GODDAMMED BULLETS!" she yelled. Uesugi pride, when mortified, could be an awesome thing.

"Of course. I saw him removing them."

"So did I," Eiri added.

"You_ SWINE._ Don't any of you _CARE _that Ryuichi Sakuma is sleeping with our little brother!"

"I do," Ryuichi piped up.

A livid red crossed Mika's face.

"And I really liked it, Aneki," Tatsuha added.

Mika covered her ears. "Put a bullet in, Winchester, I'm ready to commit suicide. God! Would you two _shut up?_"

And with that, she left.

After a moment, Tohma said, "I guess you won."

"I guess we did," Ryuichi replied, as he and Tatsuha gazed softly at each other.

* * *

The End


End file.
